Takes Time To Forget
by The.Ocean.Shadow
Summary: What happens when a suspect sets his eyes on Detective Benson? Will the detective be able to get through this like any other SVU case or will she let it get under her skin? What if, her survival in this game of chase depends on her ability to admit she can't always be the cop?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: Kind of Angst. Please read and review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and order Special Victims Unit.**

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><p>The knife was to her neck, and the fear was in her eyes. He held her by her dark brown hair, yanking a few locks, and her knees were on the floor. Tears rimmed her fearful, brown eyes, and she tried to pull away. The knife dug deeper into her neck, and she stopped moving.<p>

"Liv!" a yell came from her apartment door, which was unlocked.

She whimpered terrified, and cried out, and hoped that he heard. "Elliot!" The man in response growled, and dug the knife against her skin, deep enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to be fatal.

Panic rang through his head, and he quickly, without hesitance, took a step back, and charged, his foot ramming at the door, and knocked the door away. What he saw caused him to see things in red.

"Gah! Get away from her!" he growled, seething, and ripped the man who held a knife to her throat away from her, surprising the unsuspecting man as he did so.

The man tried to pull away from the enraged detective, but Elliot was too far in now. He threw punch after punch, marking the man's perfect face. He slumped down, becoming limp, but Elliot did not relent in his beating.

She wiped her fists against her eyes, willing herself not to break down in more tears. "El!" she screamed at him, "Stop! El! You're gonna kill him." She held a hand to her throat over the small wound, and her cheeks were stained with tears.

Breathing heavily, he let the scum fall down in a pile on the floor, and he backed away from him. He looked over at her. "You okay?" he asked in comforting whisper.

She nodded slightly, and whispered, "I am now."

He walked over to her, kneeled down in front of her, getting to her level. "I'm sorry, Liv. I'm sorry this had to happen to you." he whispered, and wrapped his arms around her.

She sank into his embrace, and sniffled.

In little less than a few minutes, back up had arrived, and Elliot gave the knocked out man to one of the uniforms, satisfied to have this man out of his and Olivia's hold. He glanced back towards Olivia, who had just finished giving her statement. She lifted her head up, and looked over to him. She smiled slightly; it was a small, forced smile.

He walked up to her, and wrapped a hand around her. "Let's get out of here."

She nodded, and stood.

"Where to, my lady?" he asked, a charming smile on his face.

She smiled up at him, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Anywhere but here, El."

He nodded, and led her out the door to the first place of many that would help her forget.

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><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**I am not sure if this is actually good, but I would like to know what the readers think, so please review. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: do not own anything that you might recognize as Dick's.**_

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><p><em>Two months prior…<em>

"Same MO." Olivia Benson said, looking through case files. Her partner glanced up from his desk and nodded.

He passed her the phone book that belonged to the recent victim, Hannah Joel "Maybe one of these people know something." he suggested.

She nodded, and looked through the phonebook. She stopped on a name surrounded by hearts. "Did her best friend tell us she had no boyfriend?" she asked.

Elliot nodded, and replied "Yeah. Why?"

Olivia passed the phonebook back to him. "Look at the name surrounded with hearts."

He looked at the name, and his face turned into one of puzzlement. "Mark…Mark Cane."

"Sound familiar?" Olivia pressed softly as she rearranged the papers on her desk.

Elliot nodded slowly. "Yeah…he was a suspect in a previous rape homicide of Jane Dwindle…."

"He get convicted?"

Elliot shook his head, and his eyes showed regret. "No."

She arched an eyebrow up. "Why not?"

His lips in a thin line, he replied "Jury was convinced that the evidence was circumstantial and that there was reasonable doubt, and so they ruled the guy not guilty even though my gut says he was."

"Typical idiot jury…." Olivia muttered, scribbling something down onto a notepad. "So do you think that he fits the MO?"

Elliot stood and pulled out the original file on Mark Cane. He looked at the MO of the rape homicide that he suspected Cane of doing, and then looked at the rape homicide of the recent victim.

"So does it match?"

Elliot nodded, and looked up at her. "Seems to."

She extended a hand. "Can I?"

Elliot bit his bottom lip, and nodded, handing her the files. "Take a look at the choice of weapon."

Olivia glanced at it. "Knives."

Elliot nodded. "The only thing that seems to be different is that Cane has stopped using condoms…." he said. "Funny. You would think that he would be smarter than that." he remarked, sarcastically.

Olivia smirked at her partner. Pushing the files away, she glances up at Elliot. "Want to go get a quick lunch before we go question the guy?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah. I haven't eaten since…" he looked at his wrist watch. "Wow…it's three already?"

Olivia chuckled softly. "Time flies by fast when you're working to catch dirt bags."

Elliot nodded, and said "You can say that again."

Olivia opened her mouth, and repeated the phrase, "Time flies by fast when you're working to catch dirt bags."

Elliot laughed. "I didn't actually mean to repeat yourself, Liv."

Olivia shrugged, and puts on her coat. "I know. Just wanted to hear you laugh. You need to laugh more often.…"

Elliot smiled softly, putting on his coat. "I know. But you know as well as I do that with this job, one doesn't usually find time nor reason to laugh."

She smiled. "I know." She turned, and started walking to the Special Victims Door. Elliot followed right behind her.

"So…I was thinking about how he targets them…." Elliot began, and trailed off at the look on Olivia's face. "What?"

She shakes her head smiling. "Nothing…just can we try to leave work here while we get lunch…"

He nods, agreeing. "Alright."

Together, the both of them walk out the door.

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><p>Mark Cane sat on the chair, his head on the desk. He was at his job, where he picked up phones when they ringed. He hated his job, but it paid the bills. He looked up at the sound of a shrill ring. He recognized it as the black office phone. He picked it up.<p>

"Hello. This is the secretary of Diana Shine - oh sorry…" he said when his boss started talking on the other line. He nods, and scribbles some things on a spare piece of paper. "Bring them in." he says, and then hangs up.

A man followed by a woman with brown hair walked into his office. The woman caught his eye first before his eyes even went to the man.

He sat up straighter. "Yes…can I help you…?" he asked, looking the woman up and down.

The man cleared his throat, glaring at the man, noticing the way he was looking at the woman who accompanied him.

Mark shook his head, clearing away all the thoughts of what he could do to this beautiful woman in his office. "Yes?"

The man took out his badge and the woman did the same.

"I'm Detective Stabler, and this is my partner Detective Benson." The man said, getting straight to the point.

Cane's eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself. "Detectives…what can I do for you?" he asked, trying not to seem suspicious.

"You could tell us where you were last night at around nine at night to one in the morning." Olivia told him.

"Why do you need to know that?" he asked, and then nodded in realization. "You think I raped and killed someone?"

Elliot smirked. "We never said anything about a rape homicide." he said, thinking he caught the guy red handed.

Mark shrugged. "Well I figured since you are the panty police after all."

Elliot swallowed down the urge to throttle the guy, and took a deep breath. "Do we need to take you down to the station, or are you going to cooperate with us?"

Mark held his hands up in defense. "Hey…hey…we don't need to get hostile here."

Olivia rolled her eyes at his comment. "How about we take this to the station…?" she suggested, nicer than her partner as she was the nice cop when she wasn't being Badass Benson.

Mark smirked, eyeing her up and down. "With you, honey? Sure."

Elliot made a move to throttle the guy, but Olivia gripped his arm, and whispered "He'll get his, El." Elliot nodded, and stepped aside. She turned to Mark. "You want to ride with us…or are you going to use your car to follow us there?"

She wouldn't trust him to actually follow them if he used his car, but his answer surprised her.

"Nah. I'll ride with you two. I got here in a cab." he said, and pressed a button on the black phone.

"Mrs. Shine?" Mark said once the woman's voice was heard.

"Mark, what do you want…." she said, suspicious of him. She didn't trust him, but he was a good worker.

"I'm gonna go down to the police station to answer a couple of questions. Alright?"

Diana rolled her eyes, and replied "Yeah. Sure."

Mark smirked, and hung up. He looked up at Olivia. "Where were we?"

Olivia looked at Elliot, and Elliot looked over to Mark. "We…are going to take you to the station now. Follow us."

Mark nodded, following Elliot and Olivia down to their police issued surban.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**What do you think? (: Hope you liked it! I know I skipped the lunch scene, but I didn't think it was important.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belongs to Dick Wolf, or anything that you recognized. I own Mark Cane, and Diana Shine, though.**

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><p>At the prescient, it was not unusually loud. Munch was having his usual bickering about conspiracies, and his partner, Fin was trying to tell him as nicely as he could possibly ever be to stop it because he doesn't care about his suspicions about the government.<p>

Fin looked up when he heard the door of the Special Victims Unit open, and Olivia and Elliot walked in with Mark Cane. His eyes followed them as they showed Mr. Cane towards one of the interrogation rooms. He then saw Stabler come out of the room, leaving Olivia alone in the room with the suspect as he watched on from the two way window.

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><p>"So, Mr. Cane-" Detective Olivia Benson started, only to be interrupted by the guy.<p>

"Mark."

She shook her head. "What?" she asked.

"Call me Mark." He said, smirking slightly as he looked her up and down.

She rolled her currently stern, brown eyes, and held back the yearning to utter something that would trigger the current and only suspect they had to verbalize the atrocious four words that all the Special Victims Unit detectives dreaded - the statement: "I want a lawyer."

"Okay…Mark…" she slowly said as she leaned against the edge of the table, and stared him in the eyes as she spoke. "Can you tell me where you were from nine at night till one in the morning last night?" She was trying to look intimidating.

Mark smirked, and lean in towards Olivia. "Well…I was at the office answering phones until eleven….and then at midnight I went to a bar, and stayed there until one in the morning."

Olivia arched an eyebrow. "Can anyone vouch for that?" She questioned.

Mark nodded. "My boss. Diana Shine." He was so sure that he had that woman wrapped around his little rapist finger. In other words, he was sure that the woman was so terrified of what he would do to her if he had reason to, that she would alibi him, just to remain safe.

"What about at the bar? Anyone see you there?" She probed, crossing her arms, and leaning against the window.

He shrugged, and leaned back on the metal chair. "I guess…"

Olivia narrowed her eyes. "You guess?" Her voice expressed that that was not good enough for her. She needed more before she would even consider letting this man go out on the streets.

"Look lady, I don't know if anyone saw me, okay!" he shouted, standing up.

She pushed him back down on the chair. "Sit the hell down!" she shouted, glaring at the scum that was smirking at her.

"This is police brutality!" he yelled, glaring back at Olivia, but he couldn't help the urge to smirk.

"Oh, you haven't even experience brutality from me yet" She said through clenched teeth as the door to the interrogation room opened, and Elliot Stabler walked in. He had a cup of water, and placed it on the table in front of Mark Cane.

Like a couple of people in a tagging race, Elliot tagged her out, and he took her place interrogating the suspect.

"So, you said that you were at a bar from midnight to one in the morning?" He said, leaning against the wall.

Mark nodded. "That's what I told that bitch." He replied, taking a sip of the water, probably leaving finger prints on the cup.

Elliot narrowed his eyes at that word. "Watch it."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He muttered as he set the now empty cup down.

Elliot walked over to the table, and leaned intimating over the suspect. "So…did you talk to anyone while at the bar? Play any card games? Talk to any ladies?"

Mark smirked, and replied "Now that I think of it…there was this hot brunette at the bar…" Their victim, Hannah Joel, was a brunette.

"Talk to her?" Elliot asked.

"Nah. She was drunk…" Mark said, crossing his arms.

Elliot smirked, leaning back, and against the wall. "Come on…A guy like you passing an opportunity cause the girl is wasted? You sure you didn't introduce yourself?"

Mark smirked, getting tricked by Elliot's interrogation tactic. "Well…maybe…yeah.. I talked to her. Bought her a couple more drinks, too."

Elliot arched an eyebrow. "She give you a name?"

Mark nodded. "The chick said her name is Hannah."

Olivia smirked this time, and butted into the 'conversation' between the two men. "You bring her home, Mark? Then did you force yourself on her?"

Mark looked up at Olivia. "Lady, I don't know what you've been smoking, but I haven't done anything like that. Besides, we had consensual sex."

Olivia rolled her eyes, and dropped the crime scene pictures of Hannah Joel's dead body that is covered with knife wounds. "This look consensual to you!"

Mark gulps slightly. "She likes it rough" he says, looking at the pictures and then up at the detectives.

Elliot rolled his eyes, and shouted, pointing at one of the pictures of Hannah Joel. "Rough! You call over thirteen knife wounds, and choke marks rough?"

Mark raised his hands up, and said "Look…I don't know how the chick got those, but I didn't do them…though they are…hot." he said, smirking. He looked convincing, but Elliot and Olivia were sure he was just a good liar.

"Oh yeah?" Olivia said, leaning in close. "Then take a DNA test."

"What?" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "No way!"

"If you're as innocent as you say, then the DNA test should only clear you…unless you're not." Olivia said, wearing a smirk of her own.

Mark frowned, and said the dreaded words. "I want a lawyer!"

Frustrated, Olivia grabbed the empty cup, careful not to touch where Mark Cane had touched, and she and Elliot walked out of the doors of the interrogation room.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Hope you liked that! :D **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order Special Victims Unit.**

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><p>"The scumbag lawyer up." Elliot exclaimed to the rest of the squad as he sat down at his desk.<p>

Olivia held the cup, "I'm going to get this to Ryan, see if he can run the finger prints." She said, putting her leather jacket on.

Elliot stood up then. "I'll go with you." He grabbed his coat, and put it on.

Olivia nodded, and walked towards the door, stopping to wait for Elliot. Elliot came behind her and opened the door, and Olivia walked out first, followed by Elliot.

Elliot stepped into the elevator, and held it open for Olivia. Olivia smiled softly, and walked in next to him. Elliot pressed the button on the elevator wall.

Elliot turned to Olivia while the elevator moved down.

"What?" Olivia whispered softly.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm fine."

"Liv-"

"Save it, El." She said, interrupting him as the elevator opened, and walked out.

Elliot sighed, following her out.

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><p>Ryan looked up as the two detectives walked into his lab.<p>

"Hey, what can I do you for you guys?" he asked, smiling at them.

Olivia placed the cup that Mark Cane had sipped from on top of the table in front of him, and Elliot began to explain just what they needed.

"I need you to dust for fingerprints on this cup, and run it through the system - you should find Mark Cane's fingerprints." Elliot explained. "Oh, also…see if you can see if it's a match to the DNA found in Hannah Joel, and the other victims."

"And we need you to look at the fingerprints from the crime scene, and see if any of them match to Mark Cane's." Olivia added, standing next to Elliot.

Ryan nodded. "Okay. I'll let you know when I have a match."

Olivia smiled slightly. "Thanks."

Olivia and Elliot then turned, and walked out. They walked toward the elevator, and stepped on. Elliot pressed the button with the number fourteen. He hummed slightly to himself as the elevator traveled up - anything to keep himself from bugging Olivia with questions. The elevator door opened, and Elliot stepped out, followed by Olivia.

Munch looked at them as they walked into the squad room. "Cane's lawyer showed up thirty minutes ago." he said, lifting his glasses slightly.

Olivia sighed, and nodded. "Who's his lawyer?"

"Some nobody called Julia Crawfield." Fin said, looking up from his typing on the computer.

Elliot smirked. "This should be easy then." he said, walking towards the interrogation room.

Olivia rolled her eyes at her partner's cockiness, and followed him towards the interrogation room.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**That ends chapter four… (: I hope you liked it. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Anything that you recognize from somewhere can not possibly be mine, now can it?**

**Oh, this is for 11Alexandria7, and all the other readers out there too.**

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><p>In the interrogation room, defense attorney Julia Crawfield, who was a blonde, blue eyed petite woman, sat next to her client, Mark Cane. She had her hand over his, and his head was down on top of the table. She was whispering words of comfort into his ear, and he was smirking at everything she said. They both looked up when the doors to the interrogation room opened, and the detectives walked in. She stood up from her seat, and walked up to Detective Elliot Stabler.<p>

She extended her hand, a smile on her face, though it was plastered there for working purposes. "Hey, I'm Julia. You're…"

Elliot blinked his eyes, staring at this woman. "Detective Stabler." His voice was stern, and meant simply business.

Julia smirked, and said "Well aren't you going to shake my hand, detective?"

"I don't socialize with the defense" he muttered, taking a seat in front of the suspect.

Detective Olivia Benson's arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she looked this defense attorney up and down like a predator stalking its prey.

Julia glanced over at Olivia disgust because she knew that the other detective was more fond of this lady than he would ever be of herself.

"What!" she spat darkly towards Olivia as she herself took her seat right beside Mark Cane.

Olivia rolled her eyes at this defense attorney's attitude, and opened up by saying. "We have your finger prints, Cane. So why don't you just confess?"

Mark interrupted, confused. "What? I never gave you my fingerprints!" He crossed his arms, confident.

Elliot smirked, and leaned in close. "Remember that cup of water?" Mark slowly nodded. "There's bound to be a fingerprint there or two."

Mark's eyes widened at this newfound information, and he turned to his attorney. "Can they do that?"

Julia shrugged. "I don't think so." She whispered to him.

"It's perfectly legal, Miss Crawfield." Olivia told the young woman, and then looked back to Mark. "We do this all the time. So would be best if your client confessed because then we would consider getting our ADA to be lenient. But if we find out with the DNA, we will make sure he gets the needle to the arm."

Julia glanced at her client, but Mark remained silent, arms crossed, and he did not look like he was about to confess to rape, let alone a rape homicide.

Elliot stood, and Olivia glanced up at her partner. She noticed the look in his eyes, and she nodded, standing up.

"Where the hell are you going?" Mark asked, standing up.

"We have nothing more to say until we get the results back" Elliot Stabler said, never blinking an eye as he spoke.

"You can't keep me waiting!" Mark yelled, outraged, pounding his fists on the table.

Olivia smirked. "Actually we can. Until the twenty four hour mark is done, we can keep you here as long as we want you here."

Julia stood up. "Is my client currently under arrest?" She questioned the detectives.

Elliot opened his mouth to say something, but Julia crossed her arms and refused to let the detectives speak.

"No. So I think my client and I shall be leaving now." She said, and helped Mark stand. "Come on Mark, let's go."

Elliot sighed, realizing that despite the crap this woman was full of, she was right. He was not under arrest. So they could not keep him. So he stood there, helplessly, as the man once again walked - only this time, he would make sure he did not walk away for good.

Olivia glanced at her partner. "How could you just let them out the door?" She asked, confused.

Elliot sighed, and looked up at his partner. "She's right. We have nothing to hold him on."

Olivia rolled her eyes, and her arms were crossed. "Not yet, El. But once the results are in, we will!" She walked out the door, and towards her desk.

Elliot sighed, and took one last glance at the now empty table, and followed his partner out, and towards their jointed desks.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**To my wonderful reviewer, I got this done because my bff is gone for the moment. So I had a couple of free time. (: Yay for free time. I hope you like it. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Anything that you recognize as Dick Wolf's is not mine. **

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><p>"Damn it!" Detective John Munch screamed as he slammed the black phone down. All of the other detectives and officers in the squad room glanced up at Munch's outburst.<p>

Detective Odafin Tutula smirked at his partner, and arched an eyebrow up. "What's wrong with you?"

Munch moved his glasses slightly up, and calmed down a tad bit. "Nothing…nothing…just….the damn thing went to voice mail." He said, pointing at the phone.

Detective Olivia Benson glanced up from her desk. "What did?" she asked, getting into the detectives conversation as for her partner, Detective Elliot Stabler, had fallen asleep after a full night of no sleep.

"I have been trying to call Hannah Joel's son for the past half hour, and the damn thing keeps going to voicemail." Munch answered, dialing again. He held the phone to his ear, and as Olivia open her mouth to say something, he held a finger to his mouth. "Shh… it's ringing!"

"Munch if the kid hasn't picked up yet, why don't you just stop?" Fin asked him, leaning back in his chair.

Munch moved his glasses slightly. "Don't you think he deserves to know his mother died?"

"I wasn't saying that he shouldn't, but don't waste your time if the kid won't pick up." Fin replied, shuffling through some files on his desk.

"How about you leave a message on his voice mail?" Olivia suggested as she shuffled through some papers on her desk.

Munch looked thoughtful, but then he shook his head. "No. I couldn't do that."

Fin arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"The kid doesn't need to hear that played out in a voicemail…he'll probably just think it's a cruel, cruel joke." Olivia nodded in agreement. "Aha!" Munch exclaimed, smiling.

"What?" Olivia asked.

"Someone finally picked up." Munch answered, holding a hand to the speaker. "Ah…yes, um…is there a Mr. Joel somewhere in the office? ….you mean he's not there? What do you mean?" Munch hung up pissed off.

"What happened?" Fin asked his partner.

"The lady on the other line said a couple of detectives picked him up from his office job yesterday.." Munch said, bitterly.

"So…?"

Munch pointed at Olivia and the napping Elliot, "Describe them as the detectives that did the picking up…"

"Wait… are you saying …. her son …is … oh god." Fin muttered, shaking his head. "So, I guess you don't need to call her son, he already knows." Munch nodded, agreeing, but frowned in disgust.

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><p>The room went silent as the phone on Elliot's desk rung, and Olivia glanced at her partner, who's head was on top of his desk, and his eyes were closed.<p>

Olivia smirked, and reached over, and picked up the phone.

"Special Victims Unit, this is Detective Benson" she greeted whoever was on the other line.

Slowly, Elliot opened his eyes, and he softly smiled at Olivia, who held a finger up to her lips, silently asking for him to be quiet.

Olivia nodded, talking to the person on the phone. "Okay… we'll be there. Thanks Ryan." She said, and hung up. She glanced up at Elliot, who was looking at her curiously. "That was Ryan. Says he has something to show us."

Elliot nodded, and stood up from his chair at the desk. "He say what exactly?"

Olivia shook her head. "No. But I have a feeling that it might be about the stuff we dropped off yesterday, and he said it was important."

Elliot nodded at that answer, and put on his coat. "Let's go."

Olivia smiled slightly, and stood, and put on her jacket. She grabbed the car keys from the desk, and followed Elliot out of the squad room, and they walked side by side towards the elevator.

As the elevator went down, Elliot glanced at Olivia.

"What?" she asked softly, glancing up at him.

Elliot smiled, shaking his head. "Nothing."

Olivia smirked, and then the doors of the elevator opened, and she stepped out. Elliot took a moment, but he soon followed.

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><p>"So, who's driving?" Elliot asked when they stopped in front of the police issued surban.<p>

Olivia looked up at him, and smirked. She tossed him the keys, saying "You are, of course."

Elliot smirked. "Of course" He got in the driver seat as Olivia climbed into the passenger seat.

As Elliot inserted the car keys, and drove off, and headed towards the forensic laboratory, Olivia whispered softly "I got a phone call last night."

Elliot glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Really? Who called?"

Olivia looked over at Elliot, and her hair covered her right eye. "Well… that's the thing… All I heard was deep breathing and then the person hung up."

Elliot nodded, and said "Probably just a teen doing some prank call."

Olivia bit her bottom lip. "I hope so."

Elliot placed his free hand, the one that wasn't on the steering wheel, on her hand in a comforting manner. "Who do you think it was?"

"What if it was Mark?" she asked, softly. "What… if?"

Elliot sighed. "What makes you think that?" he asked her softly, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to glance at her.

Olivia scoffed softly. "I mean… I'm his 'type', right? Brunette…. brown eyes…. in my thirties through forties…." she answered.

"Maybe you should have protective detail then just in case" Elliot said softly, eyes back on the road.

"What?" She exclaimed in question, outraged that he would even suggest such a thing. "Elliot! I will not have some cops following me around everywhere I go."

"Liv, this guy is dangerous! It would be for your own good!" Elliot yelled back, the muscle in his neck pulsing slightly, and he pressed his foot on the break as the light turned red.

"I'm not a civilian, Elliot! I can take care of myself." She yelled back in the same tone, crossing her arms.

Elliot sighed, and rubbed at his temples. He looked over at her, and said "I didn't doubt that for a moment."

Olivia turned away, and looked out the window, having nothing more to say to him.

"Liv…? Talk to me…." He said, extending a hand out to touch her lightly.

She moved out of his touching range, flinching away from him. Through clenched teeth, Olivia replied "Just. Drive."

Elliot sighed, and turned his attention back to traffic, and pressed his foot to the gas, and drove.

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><p>A half hour or so later of mingling through traffic, Elliot arrived and parked in the parking lot of the forensic laboratory, and then he turned to Olivia, who had not said another word the whole ride over here.<p>

"Liv…" he sighed softly.

Not saying anything, she unbuckled her seat belt, and got out of the car.

Elliot sighed, and took off his own seat belt, and opened the car door, and stepped out. Closing the door, he locked the car with the lock button on the remote attached to the keys. He then followed Olivia inside the building.

As they walked towards the laboratory, Elliot tried to get Olivia to open up about the phone call because he had an idea that deep breathing wasn't all that she heard that night. "Liv…please…talk to me"

Olivia stopped walking, and turned to look him in the eyes. "Please, El…just drop it…. At least for now."

Elliot sighed, and nodded in resignation.

Olivia smiled slightly, and resumed walking, Elliot slowly following.

Stepping inside the forensic laboratory, Olivia smiled at Ryan. "What do you have for us?"

Ryan glanced up, and smiled at the detectives. "Well, remember the cup you guys told me to search for finger prints?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah what about them?" Elliot asked, hopeful. He knew with the job he has that he should never get too hopeful, but he couldn't help it - he was hopeful.

Ryan smiled - not at the matters of the discovering, but at what he did and what would happen because of that.

He passed them a file with the evidence that he had found during the time he had with the fingerprints. "Well, I put them in the system…and the finger prints not only did they match up for your rape homicide, but for fifteen other ones around New York." he informed them, glancing up at both detectives, and he typed something on the keyboard of his laptop.

"Joan Hills, thirty three years old, brunette…. Hillary Pickles, just turned forty, brunette…." Elliot read from the paper, trailing off.

"Holy shit." Olivia cursed softly as the realization came to her. She was exactly this man's type; she's a brunette, and in her late thirties.

Elliot nodded, and shuffled the papers in his hands, and looked over the names. "So is that enough information for his warrant of arrest?" he asked Ryan.

Ryan shrugged, and replied "I'm not a warrant specialist, but I think this should be enough."

Olivia nodded, and said "Thank you, Ryan."

Ryan smiled, and shrugged. "Hey no need to thank me, Liv… Just doing my job."

Olivia smiled, and turned to her partner. "How about we go ask Casey to give us a warrant for Mark Cane's arrest?"

Elliot nodded. "Just what I was about to say."

Olivia smiled, and turned to wave Ryan goodbye.

As the detectives were walking out, Ryan told them "Make sure you get the needle for this guy!"

Elliot smirked, and turned to the guy. "We will." he replied with a smirk, and then he added "See you later, Ryan."

Ryan nodded. "See you guys" he said, and watched the detectives leave, until he had no view of them anymore.

Elliot got in the driver seat, and Olivia in the passenger seat, and they drove off towards the ADA offices, and the ride was silent, except for the occasional chatter about the case.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**Well that's it for this chapter. Next up, should be them in the ADA's office… I just decided to stop this here. Anything you like specifically? **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order Special Victims Unit. But I own Mark Cane, and Diana Shine. **

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><p>ADA Casey Novak sat at her desk, shuffling a couple of files on her desk, when the phone in her office blared, ringing. She glanced from her papers towards the phone, and picked it up.<p>

"Yes?" she asked the person on the other line. She smiled. "Thank you. Tell them to come right away."

Moments later, Detectives Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler walked in the Assistance District Attorney's office.

"Hey, Casey" Olivia greeted.

Elliot nodded in greeting to Casey.

Casey stood up, and smiled at them. "Hey Liv. Hey, El." She noticed they had their business expressions on their faces, and frowned. "What can I do for you guys?"

Olivia's smile fell, and she frowned as she handed Casey the forensic files that said that Mark Cane's finger prints were found in more than fifteen rape homicides.

Casey opened the file she was handed, and looked them over. Her eyes widened at all the similarities that the victims shared with the female detective in front of her.

"Uh, Olivia?" Casey said, glancing up at her from the file.

"Yeah?" Olivia asked, sighing softly, already realizing what she was about to say.

"You shouldn't be working this case." Casey said, bluntly.

Olivia's eyes widened. "What? Why the hell not!" She exclaimed, crossing her arms.

Casey sighed, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she said "Well… you're his type."

Though Olivia Benson had already realized this herself, she had to deny this in front of the people she worked with, or she would be unraveled to a helpless woman, instead of that badass Benson cop.

"What are you talking about?" She said, denying it all. "No. I'm not."

Elliot sighed, and decided not to intervene - at least not yet.

"What are _you_ talking about?" Casey said, repeating Olivia's question. "You're a brunette, and you have brown eyes… he targets woman that are in between their thirties and forties… Liv! You are in your late thirties!"

Olivia frowned at this, but decided to ignore the truth. "Even if that were true, and it's not, we are not here to talk about me."

Casey sighed, dropping it for now. "Okay…." she sighs, and turns to Elliot. "What do you need?"

"We need you to get us an arrest warrant for Mark Cane." Elliot answered, arms crossed. "Can you?"

Casey nodded slowly. "Of course. This should be enough to get a judge to sign a warrant."

"How long would it take you to get that warrant?" Olivia asked, softly.

Casey bit her bottom lip. "Not long."

Olivia nodded, and said "Okay. Should we come with you?"

Casey looked at her, and nodded. "Yeah. It would make things go by much quicker."

The detectives followed the assistance district attorney out of the office and down the hall, and towards a double door.

Casey knocked. "Judge Donnely?"

The judge's voice came from behind the door, "Come in."

Casey opened the door, and walked inside, followed by both Detective Benson and Detective Stabler.

Elizabeth Donnely arched an eyebrow at Casey. "What can I do for you?"

"We need an arrest warrant for Mark Cane." Casey told her, walking closer to the judge.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Evidence?"

Olivia nodded, speaking up. "We have forensic evidence showing that his finger prints were on over fifteen rape homicides. That can't be a coincident."

Judge Donnely nodded, thoughtfully. "Okay. I'll sign it."

Casey sighed relived, and handed the judge the warrant, which Elizabeth Donnely quickly signed and handed it to Casey.

Casey smiled, and said "Thanks"

Donnely nodded, and turned back to her papers that she had been working on before the trio came in.

Casey stood, and handed the detectives the warrant.

"Make sure when you put the cuffs on him you make it hurt." She told them as she walked off to her office.

Elliot looked over at Olivia. "Well, I guess we have a serial rapist to arrest."

Olivia nodded, and said "We sure do." She walked out of the judge's office, and stopped, waiting for Elliot.

Elliot came up behind her, and said "Chances are he's fled. Hopefully he doesn't make this too hard for us." He opened the car door, and got in.

Olivia nodded as she climbed into the passenger side. "If I have to run today, I am going to really mad." she told him with a smirk as Elliot drove off towards the house that was written as Mark Cane's addressed.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you won't alibi me!" Mark yelled at Diana Shine.<p>

Diana cowered in fear in her office, her brown hair that was usually in a pony tail, spewed all around her face, and her brown eyes watering from the fright. She tried to back away slowly, but Mark simply gripped her shoulders, making her stand in front of him.

She whimpered, and he shoved her, making her head hit her desk. Blood spilled from the side of her head, and bit her bottom lip to stifle the cry of pain.

Mark turned to glance behind himself, making sure that no one had heard the scene, and smirked when he realized that they were alone. He turned back to the cowering woman.

"Well isn't today not your lucky day." He said as he begun to rip at her jeans.

Diana's eyes widened in fear, and cried "Oh god! Please, no! Please don't do this, Mark."

Mark smirked, and his eyes had a crazed, evil look. With one pull, he ripped the woman's jeans off, and she screamed as he did so.

"Stupid bitch, I haven't even touched you yet. I bet you're a screamer…are you a screamer?" he whispered, hotly against her neck, making her shake in disgust.

"Fine, Mark!" Diana yelled, giving in. "I'll lie…just…please don't hurt me! Please!" she cried softly.

Mark smirked. "A little too late for that, don't you think?" he whispered hoarsely, caressing her face, and then gripping her head, and bringing his lips down on hers.

She cried, her mouth opening as she sobbed, and he took that chance to plunge his tongue into her mouth, and she tried to push him away with her hands, but she grew stiff when she felt his hand travel south.

"Please no! Stop!" she yelled.

Mark smirked, and with his other hand, he snatched his pocket knife.

She stares in fright at the knife. "What…are you going to do with that?"

The crazy look still in his eyes, he looks down and into her eyes. "Kill you of course." he whispered darkly. "Slowly and painfully."

He slid the knife against her abdomen, slightly slicing at it, making small trails of blood spill from there.

She hissed at the large pain the small cuts brought her, and she closed her eyes willing the pain to go away.

"You like that?" he murmured against her belly as he held the knife to her side.

She shivered as she felt his tongue licking her belly button.

"Stop!" she cried, closing her eyes.

Mark smirked, and slowly pulled away. She opened her eyes, thinking that he had changed his mind, and that she was going to get out of this. But that was obviously not the case.

"I'm not going to rape you." He whispered, and she felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. "But it's not because you're not my type, because bitch you damn sure are."

She shook in sobs. "Why then?" Her cuts stung, but right now she was too concentrated on surviving.

"Because I just don't have enough damn time." he said, and he pressed the knife against her neck.

Her eyes widened. "What… what are you doing?" she whispered, terrified.

"Ending your pathetic life" he whispered against her ear as he sliced her throat, and then when that wasn't enough to satisfy his sick needs, he stabbed her repeatedly in the chest, the stomach, and the thighs. Then a sick idea came to him, and he slid the knife down her thighs, and with a hard shove, he stabbed her between her legs.

"Ahhh!" she shouted, and then the world for her was black, and the man who caused it all walked out, hands and clothes bloody, and nobody seemed to blink an eye.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**I hope this satisfies you for the moment. XD What do you think? **


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show.**

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><p>"NYPD!" Elliot yelled, pounding on the door of the house that was said to belong to Mark Cane. "Open up! We have a warrant for your arrest." He turned to the back up that Olivia and himself had called, and motioned for them to tear down the door.<p>

Mark Cane not being home was expected, but what was not expected was the fact that the rooms were bare, and the only a lamp in the entire place was the one on top of the small, antique coffee table in the practically empty living room, and there was no television in entire house.

"All clear!" one of the officers yelled from a bathroom in the house.

Olivia glanced at her partner, and motioned for him to come to her. Elliot caught the motion, and tip-toed towards her.

Olivia, wearing gloves, held up a piece of paper. "This look useful in any way?" she suggested.

Elliot glanced at the paper, and he read the words that were messily scribbled on it as Olivia held the paper up for him. "Maybe." With that, Olivia bagged the piece of paper.

An officer came up to the dynamic duo, and sighed.

Olivia smiled at the officer, nodding in greeting.

The officer smiled back slightly, taken by the female detective's charm, and said, "Detectives, the perpetrator is not in the premises."

Olivia's smile fell, and then she said, "This place looks like a person never lived here…" She sighed and asked, "Where else could he have gone?"

Elliot sighed, and told Olivia Benson, "I know one place he might be."

Olivia glanced at him, curious as to what her partner was thinking.

Elliot turned to Olivia. "How about we check for him at his job?"

"Isn't he fired, though?" Olivia reminded him.

Elliot sucked in his bottom lip, and said "Let's look anyway."

Olivia nodded, and walked with her partner out of the now trashed house of Mark Cane.

* * *

><p>The building where Mark Cane used to work was surrounded with CSU technicians, and one ME, and several officers. Detective Elliot Stabler and Detective Olivia Benson arrived on the scene, confused as to why all these people were on the scene where they were so sure that their perp would be at. They walked towards one of the uniforms officer, who was guarding the scene, making sure no civilian walked in.<p>

The detectives held up their badges to the uniform officer, and Detective Stabler asked, "Hey. Can you tell us what's going on?"

The officer cleared his throat. "Female in her thirties found dead in the office."

The detectives nodded, and then they walked forward inside the building. Elliot Stabler held the yellow tape up, and Olivia Benson ducked, walking through, and then her partner followed. They walked up to ME Melinda Warner, who was squatted down on her knees next to the dead body examining her as best as she could at the moment.

Detective Benson took out a notepad and pencil, and Detective Stabler asked the first question, "Time of death?"

Melinda looked up at the detectives, and she replied with as much sureness as she could have, "She is almost stiff, so I say approximately twelve hours ago."

Olivia scribbled that time of death down on the notepad.

"Cause of death?" Detective Olivia Benson asked, looking up at her from the notepad.

"I can't tell for sure until I get her on the slab, but from what I see, she suffered multiple knife wounds." She replied, standing up.

"You think she died from that?" Elliot asked, looking her in the eyes.

Staring him straight in the eyes, Melinda replied "Maybe. But Jane Doe-"

Olivia Benson interrupted, and told her, "Diana Shine."

"What?"

"Her name was Diana Shine." She said.

Melinda nodded, and continued. "Okay. Diana Shine could have also died from a lot of blood loss. But like I said, nothing is for sure until I have her down on the slab."

The detectives nodded, and then dismissed themselves, and walked towards the door.

Olivia turned to her partner. "Where do you think he could be?"

Elliot sucked in his bottom lip, and replied "Honestly, I'm out of ideas."

Olivia sighed softly. "I guess we'll just have to wait until he uses a credit card."

Elliot nodded, slowly. "Or we can alert the press?"

Olivia's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? That would have us filled to the brim with loco tips from insane people"

Elliot looked her in the eyes, and said with all seriousness, "Or, it could lead us to our rapist."

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><p><strong>Author's notes: I hope you liked that.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show!**

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><p>"Absolutely not!" Captain Cragen yelled in objection when his hot head and stubborn detective Elliot Stabler suggested that they go to the press with information about Mark Cane.<p>

"Why the hell not?" Elliot asked, raising his voice. He didn't understand why his captain was so against it - he was so sure that going to the press would help them locate this guy that had alluded them so far.

The captain gave his detective a stern gaze, and said "Until I say you can leak any information, we use what we can. We don't need to get the press involved."

Elliot sighed, and though he wasn't going to give up, he wasn't going to argue anymore with his captain either, because he didn't want to risk losing his job because of this. He turned on his heel, and walked towards the doors of the prescient.

"Where are you going?" Captain Cragen called after him, standing in the middle of the squad room.

Elliot glanced over his shoulder at the captain, and replied "I'm going for a walk." Though, taking a walk was the last thing that the detective planned to do.

Captain Cragen sighed, and let the man go.

Elliot had been walking for a long time and when he finally had the balls to go to the car, he realized he had left the car keys on his desk. He cursed softly under his breath, and turned to walk back, but jumped at the person standing there.

She held the keys to him, smirking. "Going somewhere?"

"You shouldn't have followed me, Liv." He said, taking the keys in his hand.

Olivia smiled softly, and asked softly, "Why not? You're my partner."

Elliot sighed, getting into the driver seat. Olivia opened the passenger door, and sat. As she closed the door, Elliot whispered "I don't want you to lose your job because of me. This job means everything to you."

Olivia grinned, putting her seatbelt on. "Sounds like someone cares" she teased softly. "Anyways, I'm not going to lose my job because of you...if you get caught, I'll deny being seen with you."

Elliot sighed, and didn't argue with her any further as he put his own seatbelt on, and put his foot on the petal, and drove off and out of the prescient.

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><p>"So where are you going, El?" she asked after he had been driving for over a half hour.<p>

Elliot shook his head, not saying a word as he drove on in silence.

Olivia sighed, and sat back. Her phone rung, and she picked it up. "Benson."

Elliot glanced at her from out of the corner of his right eye, and watched as she frowned and talked with the other person on the other side of the phone.

"Okay. Thank you. I'll let him know." She said, and hung up.

Stopping at a red light, Elliot asked his partner. "Who was that?"

Olivia looked at him. "Oh. So you're talking to me now?"

"Liv." he pleaded. He rarely begged. So this shocked her.

Olivia smiled slightly, and placed a hand on his. "That was O'Halloran." she said softly.

"Oh?" Elliot breathed, wanting and needing to know more.

She nodded in response, hearing his unspoken question and told him. "He said he has something to show us, and that it's urgent."

He opened his mouth to object. To tell her that he had to do something first but her next words took the words out of his mouth before he even had the chance to speak them.

"Before you say anything, El… this is more important than leaking some information to the press. Anyways, this information that Ryan has might actually be useful in finding out where the heck this sick scumbag is hiding at." She told him, looking him straight in the eyes.

Elliot nodded, slowly, and he turned the car to go in the direction of the forensic laboratory.

* * *

><p>Ryan O'Halloran glanced up from his typing when he heard the doors to his lab open. He smiled at the entering detectives, and stood up from his seat.<p>

"You said you had something." Olivia prompted.

Ryan nodded, and led them over to the table in the laboratory.

"Yep!" Ryan said, and pointed to the piece of paper that Olivia had bagged earlier today. "Olivia, that paper that you found had some hidden words covered by the messy writing."

Elliot glanced at the paper, and said. "All I see is words."

Ryan nodded in response and said, "It's because you need an Ultra Violet light to see what is underneath." With that, the forensic scientist turned on the UV light lamp, and the detectives watched as a list of names, places, and reasons appeared on the piece of paper.

Olivia gasped as she saw her name on the very bottom of the list, but she waved it off, because she had a job to do.

"So, some of the names are crossed off here. I say you start with the one after Diana Shine, and see if he's in one of those places. And hopefully no other woman has to suffer what the past victims have." Ryan said, glancing up at the detectives.

Elliot nodded, and asked "Can you make a couple of that paper that can be read with visible light?"

Ryan nodded, and said "That was what I was working on when you guys came in." He walked over to his computer, and pressed a couple of buttons, and then the printer came to life, and printed two copies. He picked the pieces of paper up, and handed one to each detective.

Elliot glanced down at the paper, and then at his partner. "How about we go home for the night? Start again tomorrow?" he suggested when he noted the tiredness in her eyes.

She nodded, smiling. She figured that Mark Cane wouldn't be stupid enough to go after the next target so soon after their discovering of the dead body of Diana Shine.

As they walked off together towards the surban, Elliot asked "Want to come over to my place for a drink or two?"

Olivia smiled, but politely declined. "You know I would love to, but we have work tomorrow."

Elliot sighed, and nodded, and got in the driver side of the car. "I'll drop you off then."

Olivia smiled softly. "Thanks."

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><p>Because he just knew that the detectives would find the list, and probably go in order, the guy who had alluded them had decided to one up them and jump all the way to the bottom, and that was why Mark Cane arrived in a fresh pair of clothes at the female detective's apartment building.<p>

Mark Cane sneakily found his way into the building where Olivia Benson resided most of the time when she wasn't at her job. He smirked at how stupid the people in this building were. All he had to say was that he had forgotten his key, and he had been let in. He expertly picked at the lock of Olivia Benson's apartment, and snuck his way in, and hide in the darkness of the place. All he had to do now was wait for the woman to come home, and then he would pounce.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Dun…dun…dun! What will happen next? Idk… xD Find out tomorrow maybe. MAYBE! (: And... I know the part with Mark is short, but that's the point. The next chapter might possibly have more on him. I pinky promise.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show.**

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><p>Pulling up on to her street, Elliot glanced over at her. Olivia turned her head, looking up at him. She smiled softly.<p>

"Remember to flash your lights when you get inside." he told her.

She smirked, "And if I don't?"

Returning the smirk, Elliot replied "Then I guess I'll just show up at your doorsteps."

Olivia laughed softly, shaking her head. "So you're just going to stay here until I flash my lights, you stubborn son of a bitch?" she joked softly.

He nodded, a smirk on his face. "Yes. Yes I am."

Olivia smiled softly, and removed the restraint that was keeping her in the car. "Okay. I'll flash them, but only because you asked so nicely." she said sarcastically with a gentle smile.

Elliot chuckled softly, and watched as Olivia disappeared up the stairs.

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><p>Her eyes narrowed slightly when she noticed the strangeness around the building, but she didn't think much of it. She just thought that it was her cop senses on overdrive. So she shrugged it off. But when she reached her door, she got the weary feeling that something was out of place. Her hand touched the door knob, and she twisted it, only to sigh in relief when she found that the door was still locked. She reached in her pocket for her keys, and then unlocked the door. Opening it, she noticed that all the lights in the room were off, leaving the apartment in total darkness.<p>

Strange, she had thought to herself, I remember leaving at least one light on before I went to work today. But she didn't have much time to turn the lights on or even think about turning them on when she felt a hand over her mouth.

"Scream and you die." his cold, harsh voice near her ear. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she felt a cold metal against her neck, and she wanted so badly to yell for Elliot. Her eyes quickly edged with tears, and she was led towards the living room.

* * *

><p>Elliot tapped the steering wheel, anxiously. Normally, Olivia would had flickered her lights by now. He knew that his partner was a big girl, and that she could very well take care of herself, but with the serial rapistkiller, Mark Cane after her, he couldn't help but feel the right to worry. He was stuck between going after her, and waiting another minute to go after her. If his worries were correct, waiting another minute could endanger her. But if he was wrong, then she would possibly get annoyed with him for thinking she needed saving.

"Ah, to hell with it!" he said out loud as he cut the engine, and opened the car door, stepping out of the car, and immediately being hit with the night's icy winds. The winds didn't seem to bother him as the intense worry he felt overruled all sense of feeling in his body, and quickly like the speed of light, he rushed towards Olivia's building.

He buzzed the button of Olivia's apartment, but got no response. Olivia _always_ responded. This intensified his worries. He turned to a woman standing nearby and asked, pleadingly. "Can you let me in? I think my partner is in trouble"

The woman nodded, and opened the door for the worried detective.

Stepping inside, Elliot turned to the woman, and nodded at her. "Thanks."

She smiled softly, shrugging. "No problem" and went a different way than him.

Turning on his heel, Elliot rushed towards the stairs, too anxious to wait for an elevator.

* * *

><p>Olivia felt the tears against her cheek as they fell one by one. "What do you want?" She whispered, too confident to show her fear in her voice.<p>

Caressing her face with the cold metal of the knife, he murmured against her ear. "I want you, love."

Olivia crossed her arms across her chest, but Mark wasn't having any of that, and he grabbed her hands, and said "You better show me some damn respect if you want to live, bitch!"

Her bottom lip quivered slightly, though she said firmly. "No."

Digging the knife into her left shoulder, causing pain, he screamed in her face. "What the hell did you say to me?"

She didn't repeat herself, instead she murmured "What's the point? You don't let any of your victims live anyway. So I won't respect you if I'm gonna die."

Mark smirked, and he whispered against her neck. "Have you given up already?"

"No." A single word answer; this wasn't good enough for her attacker.

He shoved her down on the couch, smothering her face with the couch pillows, and he sliced at her back; enough to cause pain, but not enough to kill. "Then respect me, hoe!"

"No!" she yelled, clenching her teeth together, willing herself not to scream from the pain.

He pulled away, and stared at her. "Why the hell are you not scared, bitch? Fear me!" He was getting pissed off at the fact that here he was with a knife, holding her at knife point, and she still had the courage to belittle him.

She rolled her eyes as he moved her, so she was facing him. "I've seen uglier things."

He slapped her, and she gasped, rubbing her reddened cheek. "I know what will scare you."

She tried to keep the fear out of her eyes as she saw the knife cutting at her shirt's straps, but it was pure instinct when she cried out, "No! Don't touch me!"

Mark smirked in victory. "Scared now, huh?" he murmured as he skimmed the knife around her perfect stomach and breasts, leaving little cuts.

She wanted to back away from him and the knife, but there was no where to go. No where to run. No where to hide. She was going to get violated, and then possibly killed, and nothing would stop him. Nothing could.

* * *

><p>Elliot was panting as he ran up the stairs, two steps at a time. More than twice he had almost run over a resident walking down the stairs, but his worry had been too much to allow him to stop and mumbled his dearest apologies. As he neared her floor, his heart had almost returned to its normal speed. He had only been three doors away when he heard her piercing scream. <em>"No! Don't touch me!"<em> His heart seemed to stop, but he quickly jumped into action as he ran.

His foot collided with the door, but it didn't budge in the slightest. He figured that the sick scumbag had probably place a heavy object against the door that had blocked it from falling with one hard kick.

Olivia turned her head towards the door as she heard the noise that the collision between the door and her partner's foot had caused.. The first person that came to her hazed mind was her partner, Elliot Stabler. Her partner had realized that something was wrong when her lights didn't flash, and had came to do what he had said. First she was annoyed, but when she realized the serious situation she was currently in, she couldn't help but feel relieve for having a partner like him. Even if his stubbornness sometimes bothered her, today it was welcomed.

Pulling away from her attacker's lips which he had forced upon hers, she screamed with all her might. "El-" The knife at her neck interrupted her screams, and she didn't get his full name out of her lips. She felt the cold metal digging in deeper, and she sucked in her breath, fearing that even the littlest movement would end her - right here and now.

He leaned in, dangerously close. "Tell me one reason why I shouldn't end your pathetic life." His voice was harsh, cold, and distant. He could care less if he had to end her before things even started. The kill for him was the thrill.

Staring into her attacker's eyes, she whispered "Mark, you don't need to do this. Just turn yourself in."

He chuckled darkly. "I'm afraid, my sweat, that is not going to be an option." The knife skimmed across her cheek as he spoke.

On the other side of the door, Elliot glared at the offending barrier that kept him from his partner. "Olivia!" he yelled back, reassuring her that he was indeed there - to save her from the doom that otherwise awaited her.

He slowly walked backwards, and counted from one to three, and on three he charged towards the door, hitting the metal of the door with full force. He cursed when the only thing his foot caused was a small dent, and he backed away again, intending to repeat.

* * *

><p>Her attacker had removed his own pants, and had her kneeling on the floor in front of himself. "I think you know what happens next" he murmured against her ear as he trailed the knife across her face, and stopped the cold metal at her neck and kept it there.<p>

She gulped down her fear, and watched as Mark slowly pulled down his underwear. She couldn't help but look.

"Like what you see?" he asked, cockily.

Olivia wanted to remove her gaze; stare up into her attacker's eyes with confidence and anger, but her fear had frozen her to the spot. It was only when she felt the head of her attacker's member rubbing against her closed lips, that she finally found that she could move. She tried to back away, but his free hand gripped her already wounded shoulder, and the other one dug the knife into her neck, drawing blood.

"The next time, I slit your throat." he whispered darkly.

She blinked back the tears as she felt his shove himself fully into her mouth, and she willed herself not to gag.

Mark groaned, and muttered "That feels good." He grabbed her by the hairs, and moved her head up and down.

She felt sick. Impure. She closed her eyes as tears overflowed from them, and trailed down her nose and cheeks, staining them.

He looked down at her, and cursed at her "Open your fucking eyes, bitch."

Afraid for her life, afraid that it would all end right now, she slowly opened her fearful eyes, and she felt herself gag when he bucked hard inside her mouth, hitting at her gag reflex. However, Olivia had no time to get over this terrible feeling as his thrusts because harder and faster, and her tears became a mix of the fear and the pain he was causing. She glanced up when she heard a crash in the room, and she was sure that Mark was too involved to have heard the sound. She felt relief wash over her for a split moment when she saw Elliot standing there, looking angrier than ever.

He placed a finger to his lips, signaling for her to remain silent, and not to give him away, and he slowly tiptoed towards the unsuspecting attacker. Gripping Mark by the shoulders, he growled as he pulled him off her. "Get away from her!"

Olivia slumped to the ground in a pile of tears, unaware for the moment of what was going on in front of her as she allowed the tears to silently fall for the first time that night

Mark's eyes went wide as he was pulled away from Olivia before he had reached his climax, but he quickly smirked, turning around to face Elliot. Then, he tried to throw a swift punch at Elliot, but the livid detective easily blocked his poorly aimed punch by gripping his fist in his own, and he twisted his arm backwards, farther than it should be allowed to go until he heard a crack of bones.

Mark's eyes widened in pain, but then he glared in hatred, and tried to hit Elliot with his other fist. This fist did hit Elliot in the face, and it would later leave a bruise, but the punch had not cause the flaming with fury detective to waver. Instead, the fact that the attacker was fighting back, made this enraged detective even more determined to win. To get revenge against this man for what he did.

Elliot threw a punch of his own, hitting Mark in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, and Mark fell backwards, and onto the floor. He covered his face with his arms as Elliot sent a wave of punches and kicks, one after the other.

"Stop!" he yelled as Elliot just kept hitting, and kicking him with no restraint whatsoever .

Elliot glared at the pathetic excuse for a man that was slumped on the floor in pain.

"How many times did you hear that word coming from your victims when they asked you not to rape them? And how many times did you ignore them and rape them anyway?" Elliot questioned, kicking him in the gut with every word he uttered.

When Mark didn't respond, Elliot kicked him harder, and screamed "Answer me!"

Mark groaned in pain, and yelled "A lot!"

Elliot kicked the man in the gut, screaming "And did you ever listen to their pleads!"

Holding his side in pain, he whimpered loudly "No….Never"

Elliot threw another punch, and Mark's eyesight was slowly fading, and the world was spinning. However, Elliot would not allow himself restraint against this scumbag, and so he pulled the falling man up with one hand gripping tightly at his shirt, and his other hand relentlessly punched at the man's face, marking it with blood and bruises, while his foot kicked him insistently at his lower body

Mark was beginning to lose consciousness as Elliot kicked and punched him everywhere; and Olivia had finally picked herself up and off the floor. She placed a clammy hand against her bleeding neck, and gasped as she saw Elliot beating the hell out of her attacker.

She knew that Mark Cane deserved every punch and kick that Elliot gave him in return for what he not only did to her, but also for what all his other victims must have suffered before their lives were ended shortly, but she would prefer him alive and able to serve his sentence in a prison cell, because having him in morgue would do nothing to get justice for all of his victims, including herself.

Therefore, she yelled, louder than before: "Elliot!"

Although her scream had been fairly loud, her infuriated partner of twelve years seemed to be too lost in the red. Elliot kicked him on the head, and Mark closed his eyes, the world around him finally turning black..

"Elliot!" She yelled louder when his kicking didn't waver even after the man had passed out, "Stop! El! You're gonna kill him!"

Panting, his breath heavy, he let the scum of the earth fall to the ground in a heap of his blood. He slowly turned to Olivia. He noticed the blood, the cuts, the tear stains, the pain in her eyes and he had saw what had been happening moments before he had barged through. Forgetting about the scumbag that laid out cold on the floor, he slowly walked over to Olivia and collected her in his arms.

He placed his forehead against hers, and gently murmured "You okay?" He moved a spare piece of hair away from her face, and looped it around her ear.

Her eyebrows knotted in thought, and she slowly shook her head, though she said, her voice soft and barely there "I am now." However, if anything, she was everything but okay.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**What do you think? Moved too fast? Too...much detail? xD**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show.**

**Author's notes: This chapter is short; sort of like a filler. Needed to move the story along. I can't promise that I'll update again today. Maybe tomorrow.**

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><p>When Elliot and Olivia finally pulled away from their hug, Elliot had dismissed himself for the moment in order to call back up to pick up Mark Cane, and he made sure to include in that request that he needed a bus. He didn't call it in to be nice, but because he knew that if he let Mark die, then Olivia and rest of Cane's victims would not get the justice they deserved. Then, he called the captain to fill him in.<p>

"Cragen" his captain's tired voice came through the phone.

"Captain" Elliot breathed, glancing behind himself at Olivia who was holding a paper towel to her slowly bleeding wound.

"Elliot? It's one in the morning" Cragen said, sitting up on his bed. "What's wrong?"

"It's Olivia."

"What?" he exclaimed in question, standing up, and putting his shoes on; he had slept with his work clothes on. "What happened? Is she hurt?"

Elliot shook his head, and he replied "The son of bitch Mark Cane ambushed her in her apartment, and attacked her…caught him forcing her to oral." He shuddered in the anger that seeing Mark Cane shredding his partner's confidence one act at a time caused him to feel.

"Is she okay?" Captain Cragen asked him, worried.

Studying Olivia as she placed a bandage on her cut on her neck, Elliot heaved a soft sigh, and he whispered softly: "Honestly, physically she is fine, but emotionally, I don't think she will be fine for a while."

"That's…understandable" Captain Cragen sighed. "I'm coming over."

Elliot nodded, and said his goodbyes, and hung up. He went back to Olivia.

* * *

><p><p>

"Hey" he breathed softly.

Olivia smiled softly, and glanced over at the still unconscious Mark Cane. "You really beat him up."

Elliot smirked. "Yeah. Well, the scumbag deserved every punch."

Olivia beamed a soft smile. "Thanks."

Smiling, Elliot asked "What for?"

"For saving me." she murmured softly, glancing up into his blue eyes.

Staring into her eyes, he shook his head. "I only wish I could have saved you sooner."

Olivia sighed, and opened her mouth to say something, but a knock on the wall signaling the back up's arrival made her turn around to see as a Hispanic uniform came in followed by Captain Cragen who had showed up right after him. Elliot sighed, and handed the unconscious and cuffed up Mark Cane to the Hispanic uniform, and then turned to his captain.

"Captain" he started.

"Save it." Cragen interrupted, after seeing that Mark Cane was unconscious. "IAB will be all over this." he said, bitterly. He walked over to Olivia, and asked softly. "You okay?"

She nods slowly after a moment of thought. "Yeah…thanks to Elliot."

Cragen sighs, and says "I'm gonna need to bring you to the station to get your statement, Liv."

Olivia nods, and whispers "Can I at least change?" She still had her outfit from last night's.

Cragen nods. "Sure."

* * *

><p><p>

When they arrived at the station, Tucker from IAB was waiting at Elliot's desk.

Elliot glanced at Olivia, and muttered "Look, it's the rat squad."

* * *

><p><p>

**Author's notes:**

**I'm sorry it's short - please review with what I should do next because honestly I ended this chapter there because I'm stuck on what happens next. I know that I want to have Tucker interview Elliot, but I still haven't decided how to write that, and I think that should have its own chapter. But I honestly think this chapter sucks but maybe that's just me being insecure about it.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show. **

**Author's notes: Longer than the last chapter that's for sure. (: Well Enjoy!**

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><p>"He would have killed Olivia!" Elliot yelled when Lieutenant Tucker started to reprimand him on his excessive force. He was sitting with Tucker in one of the empty interrogation rooms, being interrogated by the rat squad.<p>

"Then why is your partner here giving her statement with no serious injuries and Mark Cane is in the hospital with serious head injuries?" Tucker questioned, leaning in close to Elliot.

Elliot glared, crossing his arms, and didn't reply. He didn't have an answer. Well he had an answer. But it would probably get him in trouble if he spoke it out loud.

"Did you hit him because seeing him violating your partner made you lose any sense of control you had left?" Tucker asked, voice low and taunting.

"He threw the first punch! It was self defense!" Elliot exclaimed through clenched teeth. He really hated the rat squad, especially Tucker.

"Detective Stabler, a few bruises on him I would accept as a self defense claim, but when the perpetrator was down, you didn't stop beating down on him. You kicked and punched him until he was down. You could have killed him. Did you lose control…is that why you almost beat the man to death?" He asked, staring him straight in the eyes.

Elliot didn't flinch at the stare. He was used to it. So, he stared right back. But, that gave Tucker his answer.

"The minute you had him down, you should have placed the handcuffs on him." Tucker told him sternly, and then added, "But you couldn't just cuff him right away, right? Not without him feeling pain like he had made your partner feel?" He leaned in close, "Am I getting close yet?"

Elliot gritted his teeth together, and muttered, "You weren't there."

Tucker smirked, and replied "You're right I wasn't. So enlighten me Stabler, did you have to beat him up? Make him feel weak? Give him a treat of his own medicine?"

"The scumbag deserved it." Elliot muttered, not looking at Tucker.

"So tell me Elliot, how did it feel when you were beating Mark up, and he was begging you to stop?"

Elliot didn't answer, and he stood up, and walked over to a window.

Tucker stood up as well, and followed him towards the window.

"Did you like the sensation…the thrill?" He questioned Elliot, talking to Elliot like he was a suspect.

Elliot turned, and just stared at him before saying, "Are you done?"

Tucker frowned, and then replied "I'm done talking to you, but don't think for a second that what you did doesn't have its consequences. If Mark dies, it's your badge and gun. For now you will be on unpaid leave."

Elliot glared, but before he could argue, Cragen opened the door. He turned towards his captain, and opened his mouth to ask him to help him keep his job, but Cragen shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Elliot. The 1-PP came to this decision themselves…and if I don't do what they say, they will probably fire me. I've covered your back one too many time. There's nothing that I can do." He added, "When you are done here, come to my office and drop off your gun," and then he closed the door, walking out to go back to Olivia.

"Do you regret it now?" Tucker asked, causing Elliot to turn.

Staring at him, Elliot replied, his voice firm and serious. "Nothing will ever make me regret what I did." and then he walked out of the room, and towards the Captain's office.

* * *

><p>"Cragen?" Elliot asked as he opened the door, and stood there, seeing Olivia talking to the captain. Even though he had seen the tragic events that led Olivia to be talking to their captain at this moment, he did not feel it was his place to come up to them and interrupt, so he decided to wait until Olivia was done or until the captain noticed him.<p>

It seemed to be the latter as Captain Cragen glanced up from talking to Olivia, and motioned him to walk over.

Elliot took a deep breath, and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He walked up to the captain's desk, and then he removed his gun from the holster, and put the black NYPD issued gun down on the desk.

Olivia glanced down at the gun, confused, and then she averted her gaze to glanced over up at him. "El?" she questioned softly.

He smiled sadly, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "See you later, Liv." Then, he walked out of the captain's office, not staying to hear whatever the captain had to say.

He hadn't expected to have a tail, and he turned around, anger in his face, fully expecting to see Tucker or the captain. However, the actual person that was there made his expression change pleasantly, though he was still confused.

"Olivia?" he asked her, smiling.

Olivia walked up to him, and stated the obvious "Captain Cragen told me that you've been suspended without pay."

Elliot sighed softly, closing his eyes, and then opening them.

Olivia placed one of her hands over his, and whispered softly "I'm sorry."

Elliot smiled softly, and asked "Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about.."

Her eyebrows knitted together as she replied in a hesitant whisper, "Maybe if I had fought Mark off more….paid attention to my cop senses, then you wouldn't had lost your control."

Elliot sighed, and shook his head. "Liv. I don't regret what I did."

Olivia smiled softly at his words, and without warning, she wrapped an arm around him - only one because her other arm had an injured shoulder, and it hurt to move it. "Thank you, El" she whispered against his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

Wrapping his own arms around her waist, he gently and caringly murmured against the top of her head. "I'd do it all over again. Anything for you, Liv." he admitted, and then he leaned his head down slightly, kissing her forehead in a caring yet also loving gesture.

Pulling away from the hug, she grabbed his hand in hers, and suggested "Since you're suspended and Cragen made me take a few weeks off, what do you say about breakfast?"

Elliot chuckled softly, and replied "Sounds nice. Who's paying?"

Olivia bit her bottom lip, and replied "Well you did just go through a divorce, so you are."

Elliot shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping. "Of course." and together they walked off to a breakfast diner.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**On the next chapter, would only one want an appearance of Mark Cane in the hospital just to show how bad off he is? Cause if not, I just won't waste my time writing that scene. :3 Oh, and I know…this scene probably reminds you of the last scene in burned…but I couldn't resist. :3**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show.**

**Author's notes: The breakfast scene is here, and I hope you like it.**

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>Smiling, the dynamic duo walked into the small breakfast diner that was just across the street from the station house. The detectives took a seat in the far back, near a window with a marvelous view. A waitress in her sixties walked up to the detectives, holding two breakfast menus in her mocha hands, and she deposited the menus down on the table.<p><p>

She stood there, holding a small notepad and pen in her hands. "What would you two lovelies like to drink today?" She asked, her voice with a country accent.

Elliot, without glancing at the menu, replied "Coffee. Two creams, and one spoon of sugar."

The waitress wrote that down, and turned to Olivia. "And you?"

Olivia smiled, and replied softly "Tea with a drop of honey."

The waitress smiled back, scribbling that down. "Alright. Your drinks shall be up at any moment." She turned around, and walked through the double doors that led to the kitchen.

Elliot glanced up at Olivia, smiling. "Still drinking tea?"

She shrugged, smiling back at him. "It's good. You should try it."

Elliot chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah. I think I'll stick with my usual coffee."

Olivia smirked, and said "Alright. You just don't know what you're missing out on."

Elliot smirked back, and opened his menu, and Olivia did the same, opening her own menu.

"So, what looks good to you, El?" Olivia asked, looking up from the menu to gaze at her partner.

Elliot shrugged, and said without glancing up from the menu. "The pancakes with whip cream, and strawberries on top."

Olivia's tan nose crinkled, and she replied "If you want to have a heart attack."

Elliot laughed, and said "Such a critic." He then put the menu down, and glanced up at her. "What are you thinking about getting?"

Olivia smiled, and she placed her menu down on the table, and pointed at the image of what was going to get. "Scrambled eggs, toasted bacon, two slices of toast, sausage, and hash browns."

Elliot's eyes widened a little, and he chuckled nervously.

"What?" Olivia questioned, staring into his eyes.

"Where do you put all of that?" he asked, deciding to be blunt.

She narrowed her eyes, and asked "Surprised?"

He nodded, but at her stare, he dropped it.

The waitress walked up to them, and placed Elliot's coffee in front of him, and Olivia's tea with honey down in front of her.

"Have you two decided what you want to eat?" she asked, sweetly.

Olivia smiled softly, and nodded. "Yeah. I would like the scrambled eggs. toasted bacon. Two slices of toast with butter, and sausage and hash browns on the side."

Not making a comment about the rather large order, the waitress scribbled the order down, and then glanced at Elliot. "And you, sir?"

Elliot sighed, and replied "Three pancakes, with whip cream and strawberries on top."

The waitress nodded, and wrote his order down on the notepad, and then walked off. She entered through the double doors again, and handed the order to the chef.

* * *

><p>Elliot and Olivia were in the middle of a deep conversation when their plates were set down on the table in front of them. Olivia's eyes went wide at the sight of Elliot's food, and Elliot smirked.<p>

"Enjoy." commented the waitress before heading off.

Elliot picked up his fork, and knife. Cutting a piece of his pancake, he watched Olivia and asked "You sure you don't want a piece?"

She shook her head, and took a bite of her hash brown.

Elliot smirked, shrugging. He took the now cut piece of the pancake and placed it in his mouth. His eyes closed in delight, and he moaned softly. "Mmmm…."

When he opened his eyes, he noticed Olivia staring at him as she drank her tea, and her food was untouched.

"What?" he asked.

Olivia shook her head, coming out of her daze.

"You want some. Come on admit it, Livvie." he told her, smirking.

She shook her head and replied "No, I don't. You have whip cream all over your nose."

Elliot frowned, and touched his nose, and then nodded in realization, taking a napkin from the napkin holder. He wiped the whip cream off his nose, smiling. "Thanks."

Olivia nodded, and tried to keep her eyes off of him and the pancakes as he ate his delicious pancakes. She moved the eggs around with her fork, and then she picked at a piece of the sausage, and brought the piece to her lips, and took a cautious bite.

"The sausage is not poisoned, Olivia." Elliot commented, smirking at he watched her eat.

Olivia glanced up, and asked "What?"

Elliot smirked, and replied "You're eating the sausage like it's going to kill you, Olivia."

Olivia blushed slightly, and shrugged. "I'm not that hungry."

His eyes now showing concern, he asked her softly. "Why?"

She shrugged, not knowing why herself. "Cause I'm just not."

Elliot sighed, and he reached over with his fork and stole a piece of bacon from her plate.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, glaring at him.

He smirked, and said "I thought you weren't hungry."

She frowned at that, and said "I'm not."

Elliot smirked, and said, "Then I guess you won't mind if I …." he leaned over again, and took her plate of bacon. "Took these."

Frowning, she leaned over, and stole a strawberry off his plate, and slowly took a bite from it.

Elliot watched her, hypnotized by her movements.

Olivia smirked, realizing this, and finished the strawberry.

* * *

><p>Suddenly, Elliot's phone started to ring, and Elliot glanced down at it, first annoyed at his time off being disturbed, but when he saw who was calling, he quickly picked it up.<p>

He stood, and walked away from the table, out of Olivia's hearing distance.

"Stabler" he greeted.

"Elliot, I have bad news." It was Cragen.

"Is Mark dead? Cause that's not really bad news." Elliot replied, glancing over at Olivia, who was watching him.

Cragen sighed, and replied "No. He's not."

Elliot frowned, and asked "What's wrong then?"

"Mark is not in the hospital."

Eyes wide, Elliot asked "What do you mean? I thought he was in a critical condition?"

"He was and is. He's…just not there. We don't know where he went. But we think he had a partner, and his partner just took him." Cragen replied.

Elliot rubbed his temple. "Well if that's the case, then he'll be dead because he's not in a hospital."

"That's the thing Elliot…a lot of hospital equipment was stolen from the hospital when he disappeared."

"You think one of the doctors was in cahoots with the guy?" Elliot asked.

Cragen sighed, and replied "I really don't know."

"What do I tell Liv?" he asked, softly.

Cragen shook his head, and said "Don't tell her. At least, not yet."

Elliot nodded, and replied "Okay."

"Goodbye, Elliot." Cragen said and hung up.

Elliot closed his phone, and walked back to the table.

"Who was that?" Olivia asked, softly.

Elliot shook his head. "It was just Maureen telling me about how fun college is." he fibbed. He just couldn't bear to tell her that they didn't know where her attacker was. He couldn't be the one to tell her that kind of news. He just couldn't.

* * *

><p><p>

**Author's notes:**

**Because my reviewers wanted the breakfast scene, I gave you the breakfast scene, but of course I can never let them be too happy, and therefore that happened. I hope you liked.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show.**

**Author's notes: Hmm I have to say, I have implied E/O in this chapter. But not too heavy, mostly just friendship at the moment. That's just a heads up for the Anti-E/O fans of SVU.**

* * *

><p>He didn't know how to tell her. How do you tell the woman that the monster, who had orally raped and then almost murdered her in her own apartment, had escaped a hospital and nobody knew where he was? How do you tell a person that without giving them a panic attack? Elliot Stabler sat in his apartment, alone, thinking over the phone call he had had with his captain; he kept wondering how and when he would have to bring up the horrible, dreaded phone call he had had with the captain. He wanted nothing more than to go to the prescient to help find the guy, but Cragen had been insistent that he stay at his apartment, and that if anything did come up, that he would be the first to know.<p>

His cell phone ringing disturbed his train of thoughts. He shook his head, and glanced over at his cell phone with a sigh when he saw who was calling. He dreaded what she had to say. What if she found out? But then again, what if she was just calling because she was lonely in her apartment, because he sure was.

"Stabler." he greeted softly, and waited for the woman on the other line to speak.

He was silent as the other person on the line began to speak. He gnawed slightly at his bottom lip, trying not to interrupt.

"Whoa, whoa, baby!" he exclaimed soothingly, not able to keep silent anymore. "Calm down, honey. What's wrong?"

He sighed as the woman on the other line began to explain what was going on. He knew something like this would happen. Why hadn't he just said what was happening outright before the news on channel nine told her?

"Baby, I'm coming over" he told her softly, not caring that he had once again called her baby.

There was only sobbing on the other line, and nothing more.

Elliot sighed softly, and whispered "Baby, don't worry. It's going to be okay. We'll get him. I promise."

Muffled sobs were heard from the other line, and Elliot sighed gently, and ran a hand through his short, cropped hair. He didn't know what to say. What to do. All he wants to do is take her away from it all. To a place where pain goes away. To place where they can all be free. To a place where she can forget. Forget it all.

* * *

><p>When Elliot knocked at her apartment door, he barely got a full knock in when locks were heard clicking, and she pulled him in.<p>

"Whoa, Liv!" he softly exclaimed, shocked at her paranoid action. He glanced down at her. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, and her cheeks were stained and covered in them; and her eyes were an almost bloody red.

He sighed softly, and with his index finger he wiped away the falling tear. "Olivia." he murmured gently, his voice soothing to the ears.

She didn't look up at him, sniffling softly.

"Olivia, look at me." he whispered, finger under her chin, and gently lifting her head up to meet his eyes.

She blinked away the last of her tears, and stared into his eyes. She wanted so much to break away. To escape reality. But it seemed there was no possible, realistic way that she could ever do that. Of course there was always the coward's exit, but she was too stubborn to end everything like that. Way too stubborn to do herself any harm.

He wrapped his gentle and caring, yet strong and warmth-giving arms around her upper back, bringing her closer into the warmth that radiated from his muscular body. He allowed the embrace between them to remain far more longer than best friends or partners should allow a hug to be, but at the moment he could care less. This was his fragile and broken best friend he was holding up in his embrace, and he could care less what half the department said about this hug between them, which Olivia greatly needed to keep herself together.

* * *

><p>Several minutes seemed to pass when the two finally broke free from the hug, but even then, Elliot's arms remained around her waist, while her own arms remained looped lightly around his neck.<p>

"I'm sorry." Elliot whispered softly and regretfully.

"What?" Olivia asked in soft and confused whisper. She had no idea why Elliot needed to be sorry. No idea what so ever.

"I should have told you. Should have told you before you found out when tuning onto the news. I'm so sorry you had to find out like that, Liv."

Olivia sighed, and now their roles were reversed. Instead of him trying to relieve her of her intense sadness and pain, it was now her trying to relieve the stress and guilt showing inside his eyes.

"El..." she whispered softly.

He refused to meet her eyes as he replied "Yeah?"

She gently gripped the sides of his face with her hands, and murmured "Look at me," as she moved his head to gaze into her eyes, which only showed concern and love for her partner.

He sighed, and lifted his eyes to meet hers, and what he saw both excited and shocked him.

"El, I don't blame you for not telling me. If our roles were swapped, I would have done the same thing. Really, El, I don't blame you for not saying anything. I really don't." She told him, looking him straight in the eyes. She is searching for a change in his eyes: A change of emotion; A relieve of that guilt and stress he felt. She sighed softly in relief when his guilt was slowly lifted away from his blue orbs, but sighed worriedly when the stress did not. She opened her mouth to speak, but Elliot cut her off before she got one word out.

"I won't let him get you. I won't. If he comes after you again-" Shaking his head, he trailed off, not able to finish his sentence.

Olivia sighed, and pulled her hair back, tying it up. "El. If he wanted me, he would have come after me already."

Elliot shook his head slowly, completely disagreeing with his partner and best friend of twelve and plus years. "Olivia, I have studied Mark Cane's behavior pattern and M.O. for the last fifteen years; ever since I first had a case against him. He never once let any of his victims live."

"Maybe I'm just lucky." Olivia murmured softly, turning away and walking into the kitchen, Elliot following right behind her. She opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a beer. She popped the lid open, and took a nice, long sip.

"I wish I could agree with you, Olivia." Elliot whispered softly, grabbing a beer of his own. "But with Mark Cane, there is no such thing as luck for his victims. No such thing."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:Sorry for the wait! :D Haha. And sorry if this length doesn't cut it but I really thought it was good end to the chapter with what Elliot said. But it's the reviewers that make the ultimate opinion. Your say matters! So if you want to see something done, I will only know if you review!<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Do not own anything but the story and Mark Cane. **

**Author's notes: Sorry for the wait. I hope you like the chapter.**

* * *

><p>The news everywhere was all over the serial rapistkiller's escape. On all the front pages of the papers were the bolded words: "Citizens of New York City Be Warned - Mark Cane, Serial Rapist and Killer, on the loose." It seemed to be the only thing on all the News Channels, and flipping through the channels of the television, there seemed to be nothing that didn't talk about Mr. Cane's escape.

Olivia sighed softly, and pressed the power button of her remote control, turning the television off. She shifted slightly on the couch, putting her feet underneath herself. Her partner had gone home a few hours ago after a lot of convincing, made by Olivia of course. But now as she sat there with nothing to distract her from the heavy news, Olivia was beginning to regret making him go home.

She sighed softly, and closed her eyes, deciding that if she couldn't escape the pain of the world in her waking moments that just maybe she would be able to get some sleep, because she very much needed the sleep.

However, it seemed fate had different plans for the exhausted woman when there was a buzzing sound sent to her apartment. She groaned, shifting on the couch, but not making a move to go see who it was. Whoever was out there would leave if she ignored them. She sighed softly when the buzzing became more persistent. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

She pressed the talk button. "Who is it?"

_No answer. Just more buzzing. _

Olivia almost growled. "Who is it?"

_Still no answer. Just plain buzzing._ As she was going to press the button again, the buzzing suddenly stopped.

She sighed, shaking her head, and walked away. When she was about to sit on her couch, the buzzing began again.

She growled, muttering a couple of curses under her breath. She pressed the talk button. "Who is out there?"

This time she could hear heavy breathing. She shook her head, trying to tell herself that she was being paranoid.

"Hello?" she called out, trying not to show the fear in her voice. "If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny!"

_No laughing. No reply. No answer. Just more buzzing._

Olivia sighed softly, deciding that if she couldn't get her sleep tonight that a certain partner of hers wouldn't either. She slowly dialed the familiar number, but when she heard his groggy voice, she immediately felt guilty.

"Liv?" Elliot asked, groggily on the phone, and shook his head, trying to shake the fogginess from his sleepy mind. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…" Olivia mumbled softly, wanting nothing more than to hang up right away when she heard his voice. "Go back to sleep."

Elliot sighed softly. "Olivia, something is wrong. I hear it in your voice. Please, you called for a reason."

Olivia sighed under her breath, and she whispered softly in reply. "I can't sleep."

"Liv, do you want me to come over?"

Olivia shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see her, as she whispered "No….that's okay."

Elliot nodded, sighing, knowing his partner to be too stubborn. "I'm coming over."

Olivia sighed softly. "No, Elliot. You need your sleep-"

Elliot cut her off gently. "And so do you."

* * *

><p><p>

When she heard the buzzing again, she growled. She speed walked over to the talk button, and pressed it. With more attitude than before, she screamed in question. "What!"

She heard a soft chuckle, and then a familiar voice. "Geeze, Liv…Forget I was coming over?"

Olivia felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she pressed the button to allow him entrance. "Sorry…come up."

She was standing behind her door when he finally reached her door, therefore he had barely the time to knock. She pulled him in quickly, just as paranoid as she had been the other time.

Elliot studied her as she bolted all the locks once he was inside. He eyed her as she turned around to face him.

"What?" she asked, gently.

Elliot cleared his throat, and shook his head, not wanting to voice his thoughts. He simply watched her as she walked over to the couch, and sat down, her legs curled underneath herself. It was only a few moments later when he did decide to go sit beside her.

"So, Liv… why can't you sleep?" he asked, rubbing her shoulder with his hand.

She glanced up at him, trying to decide if she should tell him the truth. She sighed softly, making up her mind. "No reason." she whispered. She didn't want to worry him. She knew she should tell him all her worries, but she just didn't want to put any more weight on this man's shoulders.

Elliot nodded, accepting the answer for the moment, but he knew that there was more to it than just her insomnia.

"Want to watch something?" he asked softly, looking down at her.

She shook her head against his shoulder. "Nothing good on." she muttered, sleepily.

Elliot nodded, knowing that to be the truth. Before Olivia had called, he had been in his bed room. Not asleep, but surfing through channels, all of them talking about the escape of Mark Cane. At least there would be no chance of him fleeing the state with all of that in the news. But the news, repeating everything he already knew, only intensified his worries. Mark was still in New York. Probably waiting for the news to die down before he made his next move. He simply worried that his next move would be to finish his last move.

He looked down at Olivia, and smiled softly seeing her eyes shut. He placed a tender kiss to her forehead, and closed his own eyes, hoping that sleep would soon claim him.

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><p><p>

**Author's notes:**

**I decided that's a good end to a chapter. Tell me…is it good? Am I becoming rusty?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own this show! Cause if I did, I would be working on getting Meloni back on board! **

**Author's notes/alerts: **

**Sorry for my absence, but roleplaying seems to distract me from my actual writing. I'll try to change that!**

**And when school starts I go back home to where I have no internet connection, so I apologize in advance!**

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><p>Somewhere in New York, inside a deserted hair parlor, was an escaped criminal, who sat on one of the rubber uncomfortable chairs, glasses over his brown eyes, hat on his head, covering his long, silky brown hair and news paper in his hand. He smirked as he read the part about the escaped rapist and killer, feeling bliss for alluding the NYPD for so long now without leaving a trace. He had dumped his cell phone, knowing from his father's experience with the system that the police had their ways of tracing the phone back to him, and remembering his father's wise deathbed words, he dumped his credit cards and anything else that could lead the detectives to him. Now, he just had to do something about his obvious features, and that was the reason why he was patiently sitting in the empty waiting room of the deserted hair parlor - the only one he could find that he was sure the hair stylist would care less about who he was all because he was business, and business pays.<p>

Hearing his name, he carefully folded the news paper, placing it down on wobbly table, and he walked up to the fairly young man.

The hair stylist smiled slightly, a bit wary of the escaped convict, but needing the money that he would get from the job, he swallowed back the fear. Besides, he knew from the news paper article that he read the previous morning that the man standing in front of him preyed only on women. With one of his boney pale hands, the hair stylist rhythmically patted the top of the fairly old, metal chair which was painted black, and it was obvious that the paint was chipping off, silently telling the criminal in front of him to take a seat.

Slowly he sat down on the aging chair, a sly smirk forming on his face. "Make me look like a whole different person."

The young hair stylist glanced down at the man's head, and slowly removed his cap. "What do you mean, sir?"

He turned slightly, and stared at the hair stylist before answering. "I mean exactly what I said-" he glanced at the name tag pinned to the hair stylist's shirt, and added "Henry."

Henry nodded slowly, and replied softly, "Very well." He slowly ran a comb through the man's silky,long, brown hair, and commented "When was the last time you combed your hair?"

Not bothering to answer the question, the escaped convict snapped in reply. "Why are all you hair stylists the same?"

Henry placed the comb down on the antique table which was made of marble. "I don't know what you mean."

Rolling his eyes, the man replied "Always trying to butt into your client's personal lives. Always yapping your mouths away. All you hair stylists are the same."

Henry bit at the inside of his cheek, and nodded as he whispered. "I apologize then, sir."

His voice cold and distant, he whispered. "Don't apologize, it makes you weak." This was a piece of advice that his own father had gave him when he had made a foolish mistake as a teenager, and had told his father that he was sorry for failing him.

After saying that, the hair stylist didn't say anything more, except for when he needed to ask what the man on the chair wanted done.

"Make me look so different that I become a new person." was the escaped convict's reply, and Henry slowly nodded.

He felt something shift in his stomach, a feeling of guilt as he slowly trimmed the man's long hair into a short cropped hair style, and as he begun to mix the hair dye in a little bowl, he realized what he was doing. However, this realization didn't stop him from stirring the dye until it was ready for it to be used, nor was it enough for him to give up the chance of finally making business, and he knew that chances of getting another walk in was very slim to none, and after all, he needed the money. As he slowly covered the brown locks of hair with the dye, he silently repeated the phrases to himself: _He's only business, and nothing more. Don't fret. You're just doing your job._ However the many times he repeated these phrases to himself as he worked, they just weren't enough to make the bile taste of regret go down as he added the last of the dye to the criminal's hair.

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><p>"Do you know where I can buy colored contacts?" the criminal slowly asked as he sat under the loud noise making dryer as he waited for the dye in his hair to dry.<p>

Startled, Henry glanced up at the man sitting under the dryer, and nodded.

"Where?" he asked with a smirk.

Clearing his dry throat, the hair stylist slowly replied "I… uh… I sell them on the side. But they're not prescription contacts… so…" He shrugged, his sentence ending there.

"That's okay. I see perfectly fine." replied the criminal as he carefully eyed the nervous hair stylist. "I'll take any color."

Henry nodded, and stood up from the rusted bench he had sat down on. He opened a drawer, and pulled out a pair of blue contacts to match with the man's newly dyed blonde hair. He placed it on the table, and then walked over to the criminal as the timer buzzed. He led the criminal towards the washing area, and slowly started to wash the man's hair.

When the residue dye had dripped out of the criminal's hair, the hair stylist shut the water off, and grabbed a small towel, and slowly started to pat the man's hair dry.

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><p>As he handed the man the contacts, he commented, his regret hidden well as he spoke, "Nobody will recognize you now."<p>

The criminal smirked, pleased to know that he could roam the streets without having to watch his back every moment. "Where's the bathroom?"

Henry pointed to a door off to the right of where he stood, and he watched as the man turned, and walked towards the bathroom door.

It felt like several hours had ticked by before the escaped convict had finally opened the door of the bathroom, and when he came out, it took Henry a few moments to remember that this was still the same criminal; The criminal, who he had just helped to further allude the NYPD.

Placing a few twenties into the young hair stylist's hand, the criminal remarked "Wonderful job, Henry." He then walked off, and out the doors of the deserted hair parlor, the bells on the door jingling softly at his exit.

Closing his boney, pale fist around the money, he realized that he could never use it to pay for anything without remembering what he had done today, and what would surely happened now because of the business he had accepted. With those ideas planted in his thoughts, his reason for going through with this job now felt silly and greedy to young hair stylist. He glanced at the folded news paper which had the NYPD's tip line in bold under the words that asked to call if the dangerous rapist/killer was spotted, and then he glanced at the money in his hand. Even with the guilt of what he did, and then realization of what would happen, he walked away from the scene as he carefully stuffed the bills into his wallet, knowing he had made the wrong decision.

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><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**Well I hope you liked this! I bet you know who the criminal was. Hehe. Please review with your comments, and stuff. And my lovely, dedicated reviewers, I hope everything is splendid because I wouldn't want it any other way.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the show, because like I said before, if I did, Meloni would not be leaving, and he would be getting a raise. **

**Author's notes/alerts:**

**A special thanks to my best friend for throwing words at me, helping me decide where to take this chapter. This chapter would not have been written, if my best friend hadn't been willing to help me. Read on, and enjoy my lovely readers.**

**I start school 22nd, go home before the 18th, so this might be my last update for a while because at my house I have no internet connection.**

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><p>In the shadows, a stranger, who would in the end call the shots, lurked, watching as a man, who eyes were shaded and head topped, entered through the jingling doors of the abandoned hair parlor. In the stranger's hold was a camera, and he clicked repeatedly on the button, snapping pictures of the man, who he recognized to be the escaped criminal. When the suspicious man turned, and looked around himself, the stranger ducked down in the convertible that kept him hidden well in the dark shadows. He stayed down there for a few moments until the jingle sounds, which could only mean the door of the abandoned hair parlor had been opened, entered his ears.<p>

He looked up, and out his window, and as suspected, the man was gone. His eyes narrowed as he caught movement happening in the little abandoned hair parlor. He didn't make a move to enter, because this had been exactly what the stranger in the shadows had been waiting for. The moment where he would finally have the means to get the hair stylist for what he was good for - helping cons.

A familiar ringing tune resounded, breaking the silence which the stranger had maintained. He glanced down at the caller I.D., and sighed before he pressed the button that activated his Bluetooth.

Eyes glued to the doors of the hair parlor, the stranger asked, his voice in a mere whisper. "I'm kind of busy here, Laura. Are the kids okay?"

The person on the other line, which the stranger had just identified as Laura started to reply, but her words were lost to the stranger as the doors of the parlor jingled, and a blonde man exited. His eyebrows quirked up in puzzlement as he had been sitting there in the shadows, watching those doors for quite some time.

"I'm sorry, love….I got to go." the stranger remarked, not giving the woman time to dispute as he pressed the off button on the Bluetooth.

Unlocking the doors, he stood out of the shadows, and slowly, his leather coat moving with the heavy wind, approached the blonde man.

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><p><p>

The blonde man turned at the sound of another man's voice, and his eyes narrowed into slits as the other guy eyed him.

"What do you want?" the blonde man snapped, his muscular arms crossed, not having the patience to make small talk with the stranger. His only thoughts were on the fact that he had just changed his appearance, and he didn't want to waste another second talking with meaningless humans when he could be going back to doing what he enjoyed the most; he fought back down a evil chuckle at the thought.

Coming up with an excuse to have approached the man, the stranger pointed at his camera, and said "I'm doing an article on hair, and I just think you'd be the perfect man for the article."

The blonde man eyed the stranger, but when the stranger was able to keep a straight face, the man smirked, and asked "What made you pick me?"

"Why question it?" the stranger threw back with a smirk of his own, and the man before him slowly nodded.

"Where should we take the pictures?" the blonde man asked as he looked around. The only buildings around them were the hair parlor, and a twenty four hour photo developing store.

Not wanting to go anywhere further with the man in front of him, who the stranger was certain was the same man he had caught entering the doors of the abandoned hair parlor, replied "Here is nice."

"So, photo man…." the blonde haired man started, not too good with simple, civilized conversation.

"Call me Reid." the stranger said passing off the name of the company he worked for as his name because if this plan of his backfired, he would not want the man standing before him to match his appearance with his name.

"Well Reid, I'm Ashton." the blonde guy replied, and the stranger couldn't help but think that out of all the names in the world, this guy had to pick that one.

"Ashton" the stranger with the camera spoke, and he had to bite his tongue from laughing at the man's poor choice. He pointed at the brick wall of the photo place, and directed in a commanding tone. "I need you to pose there."

The blonde man, or Ashton as he insisted to be called, nodded, and waltzed towards the brick wall, and leaned against it, turning his head to the side.

"No, no. That won't work." A picture with only half of this man's face showing would be useless to the stranger and to whoever he gave it to.

"What?"

The stranger approached Ashton, and gripped his head, turning it until it was where he needed it to be for his plan to work.

Ashton had to bite his tongue to keep the raged growl from escaping when the stranger touched him, because he was unaware that this opportunity was fake, and that all he had done to allude the detectives could all go down the drain in the hands of this stranger.

The stranger stepped back slightly, and nodded. "That's better." He lifted the camera, and zoomed on the man's head, and snapped picture after picture.

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><p><p>

Hours later, and the stranger had gone back to hiding in the shadows, his eyes watching the doors of the parlor like a hawk, keeping alert by slowly sipping a hot cup of coffee. He noticed the tenseness in the hair stylist's actions as the door of the hair parlor quickly flung open, the bells above jingling, disturbing the peaceful night. He slowly got out, and walked out of the shadows once again.

"Nervous?" the stranger asked, spooking the hair stylist, who seemed to be having trouble fitting the key into the key hole.

"I'm closing." muttered the hair stylist, not bothering to glance behind him, already knowing who this stranger was.

"Oh yeah?" the stranger said, his voice low and taking on a dangerous tone. "So tell me, Henry, how does it feel knowing you just helped one of the most wanted?"

Henry's throat suddenly felt dry, and he gulped, but it was hard to swallow. For a moment, he was silent.

"Hit a nerve?" the stranger said in a low whisper.

Henry shook his head, and replied, hiding the horrible feelings he truly felt for what he had done. "I did no such thing."

The stranger cocked an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that the guy who entered wearing shades and a hat is not the same guy who exited?"

Henry slowly nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Scoffing, the stranger shook his head. "You must be more insane than I previously thought if you think I'd be stupid enough to believe that out of you, Henry."

Henry scowled, and quickly turned around. He glared at the stranger, who stood at least a foot higher than himself.

"You know you could be charged as his accomplice?" the stranger informed, trying to get the nervous man to unravel further.

Keeping up the cold front, Henry rolled his eyes. "Do you have hearing problems, Jonathan? I told you I didn't do anything wrong."

The stranger narrowed his eyes at the use of his first name, and he whispered darkly. "It's PI Williams to you, Henry."

Henry scoffed. "Whatever." He pushed his way through the stranger standing before him. He called over his shoulder as he walked over to the parked truck, "And if I catch you here again, I'm calling the cops for trespassing."

As the stranger watched the hair stylist get in the car, he replied loudly "Enjoy your possibly last night as a free man!"

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><p>Now alone, the stranger slowly jaunted towards the twenty four hour photo developing store. Opening the door, he sighed softly at the long line that met him. Shrugging to himself, Williams took his place behind a black haired teenager. He busied himself with jotting down notes of what he saw and when he saw what he saw on a small notepad that he tended to carry around with him. He looked up when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.<p>

"Cough drop?" he offered the worker, who appeared to want her shift to end, arching a brow.

The worker rolled her eyes at the offer, and shook her head. "How can I help you?"

Passing the digital camera to the worker, the stranger replied "I need this photos developed."

The worker gave the stranger a look, and shook her head, already used to the strange walk ins.

"Alright." she muttered, turning around, and she plugged the digital camera into the machine. It took merely a few moments for the photos to print, and she glanced at one of the photos which was of the man with the shades and the hat, and frowned softly.

"Here you go." the worker chirped in an overly happy tone, which was faked, as she handed the stranger his photos.

"How much do I need to pay?" the stranger asked already pulling out his wallet.

"Uh… ten dollars will cover it." answered the worker, tapping her nails on the table. She didn't feel uneasy about the man himself, but the pictures for some reason made her blood chill.

The stranger nodded, and he realized that was far cheaper than what he usually paid, and he set down a crimpled ten dollar bill, not bothering to question the price.

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><p><p>

Opening the doors of the convertible, he leaned in, and grabbed a spare file. He carefully placed the pictures inside, and labeled the outside with the words: Pictures of Possibly Escapee Mark Cane. He then set the file of pictures down on the passenger seat, and sat down on the driver seat. He sat there for several silent moments in the shadows, figuring out his next move. Turning on the engine, he drove off, and out of the abandoned street.

Parking somewhere near the payphone, which had become the one he used while making calls that were less than personal, he got out, his coat swaying with the slight wind of the night. Approaching the booth in which the payphone was kept, the stranger was relieved when he spotted no one inside nor anyone around that could hear his conversation. With one more look around himself, he entered the phone booth, shutting the door behind himself.

He plucked in a few quarters, then dialed the number which after several years of using it had become like a second nature, and all he had to do was wait for the call to be picked up.

He shifted from foot to foot as the ringing kept on, and was about to give up, and call again after he got some rest when the tired voice of a man entered his ear, and he looked around, making sure that no one was with him, before replying. "I think I might have something that could be useful to you."

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><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**Oh my! What a cliffy… nah xD What happens next? *shrug* Depends on what my readers are really hoping for.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: If I owned this show, Meloni would not be leaving, so I don't own it. **

**Author's notes/alerts **

**Please bear with me! I am a little stuck how to make this chapter as good as the last two, but I shall try! **

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><p>When the blaring sound of a phone ringing cut through the clatter of the several detectives and uniforms, one very tired detective reached for the phone, and all became quiet around the man.<p>

"Special Victims…." This was a speech that the detective, sitting in the chair, holding the phone, had memorized long ago.

As the person on the other line spoke his first words, the exhausted detective extended a long, boney hand, and grabbed a notepad, and a sharpened number two pencil.

He nodded, and commanded in a soft whisper. "Okay. I'm ready."

His graying eyebrows quirked up at the information that came crawling out of the man's mouth that was on the other line, but never once did the detective open his mouth to interrupt, simply scribbling down whatever was said.

When at last a pause arose, the detective asked "Any way you can drop those pictures at the station?"

He nodded slightly as the person, who had given him key information to finding the guy that every detective and officer in the NYPD were after, explained where to meet him to get the pictures.

He scribbled down the address he was told to go to on a spare sticky note that was clattered around on top of his desk.

He stood, the phone still to his ear, and replied, "Alright. I'll be there soon." With that, the detective carefully placed the phone back in its place.

As he turned, and grabbed his long, black coat, the detective's partner glanced up, and raised an eyebrow, but didn't question his partner as he turned, and left through the doors of the Special Victims Unit.

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><p>The stranger was waiting inside his car, gazing out his window, waiting for the detective. For a moment, the stranger was sure that the detective wouldn't come. What if the detective hadn't believed him? His doubts however were put aside when he noticed the navy car pulling up beside his. He eyed the car with curiousness, and lowered his window when the car's window lowered, and a white haired, aging man came into view.<p>

"You the man who called the tip line?" the aging man, who was of course the detective that the stranger had talked to, asked, leaning against his open window.

The stranger slowly nodded, barely blinking. He grabbed the file filled with the pictures and extended his hand out. "These are them."

The detective got the pictures in his hands, and nodded. "Thank you." He didn't drive off though. He slowly opened the file, and started studying each and every picture. He glanced up. "The blonde guy…. He's the same guy as the man in the first pictures?"

The stranger nodded. "Of course."

"So, besides yourself, who saw him before he got his hair bleached?" he interrogated, eyeing the stranger, not sure if this was a joke or not.

As if reading the paranoid detective's mind, the stranger replied "You can trust me, Detective." he reached into his pocket, and pulled out his PI badge, and flashed it to him. "I'm on your side."

The detective nodded, and replied "Detective sounds so bland. I'm Munch. Detective Munch."

The stranger slowly smiled at the detective, and said "Well, Detective Munch, I hope you find the guy."

"Do you have a name?" Munch asked, arching a curious brow.

The stranger nodded, but replied "Just call me Stranger."

Munch nodded, not questioning the name as he asked "So, this hair stylist, any pictures of him?"

The stranger nodded, and reached for another file. "I have plenty."

Munch raised an eyebrow. "Why so much?"

"I have been investigating that little parlor for quite some time." the stranger replied simply as he pulled out a good picture of the hair stylist, and handed it to Munch.

"How come?" Munch asked. "Customers not liking the results?" As always, this aging detective cracked a joke.

The stranger shook his head. "His only customers seem to be cons, and crooks, and escapees."

Munch eyed him, and whispered "So you're saying this is not the first fugitive he's helped run from the law?"

The stranger nodded slightly. "Exactly what I'm saying. But this is the only time that there's ever been any proof."

Munch nodded, and he placed the pictures somewhere in his car. "Well, Stranger, maybe we'll run into each other again."

"Maybe." murmured the stranger as he rolled up his window, and then watched the detective drive away.

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><p>Somewhere in New York, splayed on a couch, the television blaring softly, was a woman with brown locks of hair, and gentle brown eyes. She laid there, gaze on the screen, a movie playing. There was still no news about her attacker, at least nothing that she knew of. She had already gone through half her movies, and had resorted to one of the Disney movies that she had gotten when Calvin was around. She had never actually gotten around to discarding the videos, or giving them away like she had first said she would do. The outside world was forgotten at the moment to the woman on the couch, who simply choose not to care about the day's troubles, because if she let her mind wander there, she would remember that she still wasn't able to go back to the job she loved as much as she cherished her life.<p>

She smiled softly as the movie playing on her screen came to an end, and she sighed slightly as she stood up from her spot on the couch, and removed the tape. She carefully placed the tape back in its proper spot, and she turned the television off, deciding that she would do something more proactive; she grabbed her coat, cell phone, and keys, and walked towards her door.

As she closed her door and inserted the key, locking it, she had the eerie feeling that someone in the shadows of the building was eyeing her as she moved. She shook it off as post trauma syndrome, and carried on her merry way down the hall, and towards the elevators.

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><p>Inside the elevator, she smiled slightly at the blonde man, who strangely she had never seen before. But she didn't think much of it as she had barely hung around her building enough to know who might or might not actually live around her.<p>

"Hello." She greeted softly with a smile.

The blonde man's eyes twinkled, and the woman had a hard time figuring out what the twinkle meant. "Hey."

The woman bit down on her bottom lip, reminded her of the harsh sounding whispers that her attacker had whispered when he was beating her down, when she heard his voice; a voice that sounded so much like the one of her attacker's, who had left her scarred and broken, both psychically and emotionally.

"I'm Ashton." the man said, and he smiled at the woman, who was at least a foot shorter than him. "What's your name, beautiful?"

The woman couldn't help but smile, flattered at the flattering remark. "Thank you." she replied, and almost introduced herself as Detective Benson. She silently scolded herself for her almost mistake. "Olivia."

The man's lips curved upward, and he grabbed Olivia's hand, and placed his lips on them. "Nice to meet you, Olivia."

Olivia shivered slightly as his lips touched her hand, and it was not a pleasant shiver. As the elevator doors buzzed open, she gave the man one final look, before scurrying out the elevator doors, and out into the lobby, the man's eyes following her until she was out of his sights.

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><p>The buzzing of a phone that laid on top of a nightstand in a bedroom of an apartment, disturbed the sleeping man that lived there, and he groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes with one of his fists as his other hand went and grabbed the still vibrating cell phone. He checked the caller ID, and quickly flipped the phone open.<p>

"Stabler." the man greeted, a yawn following afterwards.

He listened carefully as the other detective spoke, and his eyebrows quirked up slightly when he mentioned the fact that there was a man out there somewhere helping criminals, like the one they were after, escape the law.

"When you find this out?" Stabler asked as he stood, and slowly begun to get dressed. He nodded as the man on the other line answered his question. "So, what are you doing now?"

"I'll go with you." Elliot said when the detective replied that he was thinking about questioning that hair stylist, and see if he had any idea as to where the detectives should look.

He frowned when the detective reminded him that he was still suspended, and it would not be good for him to go out on an investigation. "I promise not to beat him up."

He sighed softly when the other detective didn't relent, and he nodded slowly, giving in, as he spoke. "Fine, but you have to promise me that you keep me in the loop, Munch."

"I don't know." he murmured when Munch asked him about his partner, "I mean… I haven't seen her today." Elliot rolled his eyes at one of Munch's comments. "I am not always with her….you know what, Munch? Of course I'm with her a lot, I'm her partner!"

Elliot frowned slightly when he heard the soft beeps, which meant that Munch had either hung up or that his cell phone had died. Elliot highly doubted it would be the latter, but he shrugged it off, and walked out of his room, and towards the kitchen, where he quickly grabbed the keys to the doors of his apartment and of his car's, and walked out the doors.

* * *

><p>Munch turned to his partner, who was looking over the file of pictures that he had given him. "You ready?"<p>

Fin glanced up, and nodded as he stood. "Let's go."

Munch nodded, and put his coat on, grabbed the keys to the car, and walked out the building, his partner right behind him.

Inside the car, Fin leaned back in the passenger side as Munch drove, because he was the only one who knew the directions perfectly.

Fin glanced at his partner, who's eyes were on the road. "Let me question this guy?"

Munch nodded. "Sure. You'll probably be able to break him by just glaring at him." He glanced slightly at his partner. "From what I hear, this guy is a touch cookie."

* * *

><p>The doors of the hair parlor jingled as the two male detectives made their way inside the empty parlor.<p>

The hair stylist, who was simply sitting down on a chair, reading an article in the newspaper, glanced up and smiled at the detectives, thinking he had business, and he folded the newspaper, marking his spot, and placed it on the marble table. He stood up, and approached the men. "Hello boys, what can I do for you two?"

Fin and Munch both flashed their badges, and Munch lowered his glasses. "Since you're so eager to do us something, how about you answer some of my partner's questions?"

The hair stylist gulped slightly, and eyed them. "I'm not in trouble am I?"

Munch eyed him, and said as he looked him in the eyes. "Have you broken any laws?"

The hair stylist slowly shook his head, sweat forming on his brow.

"Then you're not in trouble." Munch remarked, and took out a notepad and a pen. "Now, please answer my partner's questions."

The hair stylist nodded, and looked over at Fin, and he instantly felt smaller in the glare of the detective.

Fin flashed a picture of Mark Cane, and asked, looking the man straight in the eyes. "Have you seen this guy?"

The hair stylist shook his head. "No…." he fibbed, but the detective could see that the hair stylist was lying.

Glancing at the man's name tag, Fin growled. "Don't lie to us, Henry! We know you saw him." He pointed to the picture of the guy in the picture walking inside the parlor. "This is your parlor!"

Henry gulped, and whispered "He might have showed up for a while."

"You could have called the tip line right away. Instead you offer business to the scum?" he interrogated, eyeing him.

"There's no proof." Henry replied.

Munch lowered his glasses, and told the hair stylist. "I believe several pictures and an eyewitness is plenty of proof."

Henry turned his gaze onto the other detective, and said "Talking about Jonathan?" He shook his head. "That man been tailing my parlor for quite some time. He'd tell you anything to get my place condemned."

Munch arched an eyebrow. "I highly doubt Private Investigator Williams would lie to me." He studied the parlor, and added. "And by the looks of it, this place should be condemned."

"Why?" Henry asked, smirking slightly. "Cause you two are such best buds?"

Munch, looking straight into the hair stylist's eyes, replied "If you don't talk, my partner and I will arrest you as an accomplice."

Rolling his eyes, the hair stylist remarked "I'd like to see you try."

Henry gasped when he felt the younger detective grab his pale, boney arms, and pull them behind his back. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Henry, you are under arrest for the obstruction of justice, and for being an accomplice." Fin replied, placing the cuffs on his wrists, and making sure they were tight, and he begun to read him his rights as he pushed him out of the hair parlor's doors, and towards the parked car. He stuffed him inside the back, and then he went, and sat in his seat.

As Munch sat down in his spot in front of the wheel, Fin glanced over at him. "He's never going to talk."

Munch nodded. "I know." he sighed softly, and he turned the key, and drove off, and towards the prescient.

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><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! See, no cliffy this time, but still enough to let me think of the next chapter. But that might not be for a while cause I go home soon. But I promise to try and still write so when I am able to come back, I'll probably have plenty to put up. Remember, reviews are always what keep me writing! So don't forget to click that button.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Law & Order: Special Victims Unit because if I did I would be full of cash, able to pay the internet bill, and update more. Oh, and I would have given Meloni a raise so he would stay. So as you can see, I must not own it. **

**Author's notes/alerts: **

**I am currently still without access to the internet nor television. If this update is up, it must be because I have stopped at a McDonald's with wireless access. **

**Chapter 19**

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><p><p>

A few streets away from a vast apartment building, where the brunette detective would be on the few hours that she wasn't needed out on the streets or in the station, was a newly opened coffee shop. The doors of this coffee shop were roughly pushed open as a blonde, blue eyed man entered the shop. He waltzed towards the pimply teenage boy, who was standing at ready in front of the cash register.

The teenage boy blinked at the older man, who simply stood there, staring him down, before he opened his mouth. "Uh…Yes?"

The blonde man eyed the teenager boy for a few short moments before he sighed, and inquired with narrowed eyes. "I was told to meet with the manager of this place at-" he glanced down at his watch, and then back at the teenager. "Noon."

The teenage boy nodded slowly, and turned, looking behind him. "I'll go get her." He fast paced towards the older woman, who had the name tag that read _Manager. Laura Nutty._

"Miss, there's a man that says he has a meeting with you." the teenage boy informed the woman, who was typing at her laptop.

Laura glanced up, tucking a brown strand of hair behind her ear, and her brown eyes met the teenager's green eyes.

"Who?"

The teenager shrugged his shoulders, and glanced behind himself. "I didn't ask for his name, but he seems impatient, and uh… trouble."

"Michael, you don't know if he is having trouble right now." Laura replied, standing, and not quite understanding what the teenager boy meant.

Michael shook his head, sighing. "No. I mean, he seems like trouble."

Laura eyed Michael, and then glanced over at the blonde man, and a smile came to her face. She patted the teenager boy's shoulder warmly. "That's Ashton. I met him some nights ago, and he told me he needed money, and I let him know I'm hiring."

Michael frowned softly, having a bad feeling about the blonde haired man, but he sighed, giving in. "I don't have to play nice with him?"

Laura turned her gaze onto the teenager. "You will behave, or you will be fired." She warned, before she swayed away.

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><p>The blonde haired man ran a hand through his short hair, pretending to appear like the stressed out man that he had portrayed himself to be on the night that he met the manager by chance. He turned, and jumped in false surprise when the woman called his name.<p>

The manager smiled softly at the man, and said "I'm sorry I startled you."

Lips curving up into a fake smile, he nodded slowly. "So, you can seriously get me a job here?"

Laura nodded, and handed him a form of papers. "All you have to do is fill these out as it is required, but this is just so I have something for the legal records, because I've already decided you're getting the job."

He nodded, and sat down with the papers. He looked up at her. "Do you have a pen? I forgot mine."

Laura nodded slowly, and she said "I'll go get one." She scurried off towards her office, and grabbed a black pen, and scribbled slightly on a spare piece of paper, making sure that the pen worked. Once she was certain that the pen worked, she rushed back over to the man. She placed the pen down in front of him. "There you go." She then turned, and walked back towards her office.

The man picked up the pen, and slowly started filling the form with false information. His name? Ashton. Last job? Cashier. Any criminal records? Nope. He stood up once he was done, and he placed the form on the table, where the teenage boy was sitting, working on an English paper.

"What?" Michael asked, glancing up at the blonde man.

Smirking, the man said snidely. "When you can, give these forms to Laura, champ."

The teenager rolled his eyes, and he went back to writing his English paper, only glancing at the blonde man as he walked out the doors.

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><p>She ran a tan hand through her brown soaked hair, sighing softly. She glanced up as she felt a body sit beside her. She frowned softly as she recognized the man sitting beside her as the man she had encountered inside the elevator. <em>You're only paranoid<em>, the voice inside her head told her softly. _Of course he would be here if he lives in the same building as you. _

"Olivia, right?" whispered the blonde haired man, actually smiling.

The woman's eyes widened; she hadn't thought that a stranger would actually remember her name after only meeting once and by chance, but what she wasn't aware of was that their meeting had been rigged by the one who knew it to be not by chance.

He held his hand out. "You may or may not remember me, but I'm Ashton."

Olivia eyed the hand like it was something out of a horror story, before she sighed, and slowly accepted his hand. "Oh, I remember."

The man smiled wickedly, shaking her hand so fast that she almost believed that it would rip off. "So I've been on your mind since?"

Olivia bit her tongue to keep herself from scoffing at him. She rolled her eyes slightly, and pulled her hand back. _Yeah. Something like that. _

"Ashton!" a sharp female voice called out, standing there, her arms crossed. "I'm not paying you to woo the ladies, get to work!"

Ashton scowled, not wanting to get up. He seriously believed that he was making progress with the woman that sat in his line of vision.

Olivia gazed over at the brunette woman, who was standing there, arms crossed. "Uh, I think it would be best if you listened to her."

Ashton sighed, playing the part of the overworked employee, and stood up slowly. "I was just resting my legs, Laura."

Laura scowled at him, and replied "You had plenty of time to rest them during your break." Shoving a pad of paper in his hands, she ordered "I need you to go wait table five." She pointed at the table, where three teenage girls were sitting, talking.

Frowning, Ashton lagged towards the table, but taking and serving these teenagers their orders was the last thing that was on his mind as he talked as if programmed, while he silently plotted his next move in this game of life.

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><p><p>

**Author's notes:**

**School starts tomorrow. Still on internet at my house. Enjoy this. ENJOY IT. Lol. Take care. **


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show, because if I did, Meloni would be Stabler still. **

**Author's notes/alerts:**

**Currently typing this in a hotel lobby, where I've gotten connection. Sorry for the waits. Gonna try to do my best to find time to write chapters but I cant promise anything yet.**

**oh, and my birthday is on September 12th. 9 days away as of today ( today is September 3)**

**Chapter 20**

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><p>Somewhere on the busy streets of New York City, blue and red lights flashed coloring the dark night as the sirens of a police car blared loudly, adding to the crowded street's orchestra of numerous beeping car horns. Other cars on this busy road pulled over, getting out of the way, as the two detectives, one sitting in the passenger side, silently staring out the window, trying to keep his thoughts mild and the other behind the wheel, sped through traffic with a man, who had his arms chained behind his back and was slowly drifting off in the back seat as the detective at the wheel slowly drove to the building that contained the department of the Special Victims Unit.<p>

The car slowed down to a stop as they arrived in front of the building, and the lights dimmed down, darkening the night sky as they turned off completely. The boney detective rotated the key, turning the car off. He removed his seatbelt, and opened the car door, stepping out. The detective watched as his partner, who's exterior made him appear harsh, followed suit; the tough looking detective quickly removed his seatbelt and got out of the car, and then he gripped the handle of the back door, pulling it open. He wasted no time as he gripped the man's arm, dragging him roughly out.

The dozing off hairstylist was startled awake as the black, tough looking detective pulled him out of the NYPD issued car. His lips curved downward into an upset scowl. The boney, white haired detective stood beside his partner, silently observing. When the cuffed up man didn't move, the detective, who had pulled him out of the police car, growled, and shoved him forward, causing the man to wobble, losing his footing.

"This is police brutality!" the man, who had his arms restrained with cuffs behind his back, shouted outraged as he caught himself, and regained his footing.

Fin rolled his eyes at the remark that he personally thought was overused, his temple pulsing dangerously in annoyance at the man, a migraine already forming. His partner tapped his shoulder, a silent signal, relieving the detective from the source of his headache. He looked up at Munch, and nodded as he stepped aside to allow his partner to step in his place.

Munch then grabbed Henry's arm, and pulled him inside the prescient, while Fin paced outside, shaking his head; his mind crowded with thoughts. He was worried for his female coworker, and he was pissed that their only solid lead had turned out to be a road block with a stubborn bastard, and as sad as it was, if they couldn't get him to talk, they had nothing, which meant Olivia and possibly any woman, who fit the criteria that their guy seemed to have, wasn't safe.

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><p>Fin sighed softly as he heard the door open and foot steps approach, but he never once looked their way. However, he glanced up at the use of his full name. He nodded at his captain, and hustled inside.<p>

Cragen eyed Fin as he made his way towards the interrogation room. "Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked the detective as he stood there in the hallway in front of Fin.

Fin glanced at him, and sighed softly, "I have to do this, Cap." He whispered, avoiding his captain's question.

Cragen nodded slowly, and stepped aside to allow Fin to walk the rest of the way towards the interrogation room, but warned the detective as he started to walk away. "If I feel like you are getting too involved in this, I will pull you out. No warning before, and buts after. Understood, detective?"

Fin paused there in mid-step, taking in his captain's words, and nodded. "Yes, sir." He then continued to stride towards the interrogation room.

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><p>Inside the small, gray interrogation room, Munch had his back against the wall, observing the fidgety man. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at the door as it opened, and he nodded slightly at his partner as Fin stepped inside before returning his attention back onto the man.<p>

"Anything?" Fin asked his partner as he eyed the man, who now sat with his head on the table.

Munch shook his head, and whispered, voice low. "I don't think he'll talk to us."

Fin glanced up at his partner. "What do you mean?"

Munch looked down at his partner, and sighed. "He'll talk, if we break through enough of his walls, but that's going to take a lot of work."

"Stabler could do it in one session." Fin suggested with a small shrug.

Munch shook his head, slowly. "No. I'd rather not get him involved."

Fin rolled his eyes. "Open your eyes, the man is already involved! He's been involved from the start!"

Munch held his tongue, and shook his head at his partner. He then slowly walked over to the arrested man. "Thirsty?"

The man glanced up, and shook his head. "No. When can I get out of here?"

"As soon as you talk." Munch replied, lowering his glasses.

The man sighed, and shook his head. "I can't give away my customer's information-"

Fin, who had walked up to the metal, black, interrogation table, pounded his fists on the table, startling the arrested man as it resounded with echoes. "Bullshit! You're just a lousy hair stylist. As far as I'm concerned on the relationships you build with your customers, there is no confidentially between a hair stylist and their customers."

Munch cleared his throat, and looked at the arrested man, wondering what he would say.

Leaning back in the metal, uncomfortable chair, the man scowled softly as he replied. "Well there should be."

"Look, you want to get out of here, right?" Munch asked, arching an eyebrow up in question.

He glanced at the detective, and nodded slowly.

"Then, just talk. What's the harm?" The boney detective reasoned.

The man opened his mouth to say something, but he closed his mouth as the door opened and a skinny, boney man walked in, capturing the attention of not only him, but also the two detectives in the room.

Walking towards the table, the detectives eyed him as the man set down the black leather suitcase down on the table. "Henry, don't say anything." He ordered, calling the man, who had been about to spill his guts, by name.

Fin shook his head, crossing his arms. "Who are you?" He snapped in question, scowling.

The man glanced at Fin, and replied as he opened up the suitcase. "Dave Gill. Henry's attorney, and I'll like a few moments to discuss with my client" He waved his hand in the air, "So, if you could just go, that'd be perfect."

Fin scowled, and walked out of the interrogation room. Munch slowly walked out as well.

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><p>After the detectives had left the room, Henry finally spoke up. "I didn't ask for an attorney, and I surely can't afford you."<p>

Shaking his head, the attorney slowly sat down on a chair, facing his client. "You don't have to pay a thing."

"Does that mean you're free?"

The man laughed at the thought, and shook his head. "Free? No, Henry. My services are expensive. However, you must have done something good in your past life or something."

The attorney held his hand up, stopping Henry from interjecting. "Someone called me up, saying that he had a pal that needed assistance with the NYPD, and he asked me to be your counsel. The guy even paid for it already."

Henry scrunched his brows together, confused. "Who called you?" As far as he knew, he didn't have any family or friends, who he hadn't already pushed away over the last several years, that would pay for him to have an attorney.

Dave smiled slightly at his client, and simply replied as he got some papers out of his black leather suitcase, which contained information not only about Henry, but also on the person, who paid for the service. "Ah… let's see…hmm" He said, studying the paper, looking for the man's name. "Aha. His name was Ashton. Odd guy. But I bet you're thankful."

Henry frowned softly. Why did that name sound so familiar?

"Something wrong?" his attorney asked as he carefully eyed his client.

He shook his head, and whispered "No. Nothing." He cleared his throat, uneasily. His attorney nodded, slowly, and put the papers back in the suitcase.

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><p>Behind the shut doors of the interrogation room and on the other side of the two-way glass, stood the black, seemingly independent detective, his intense brown, emotion filled eyes glued to the glass as he wrongfully watched the attorney and his client as they had what was supposed to be a private conversation. The detective realized that standing there and observing this conversation went against the privilege that attorney and client were supposed to have, but he could care less. He really could.<p>

"What are you doing?" Munch asked, suddenly appearing behind his partner.

Never once removing his eyes from the window, Fin whispered "What do you think?"

Munch sighed, shaking his head. He wouldn't even try to tell his partner that what he was doing was wrong because he could tell that his partner already knew all of that. Therefore, without saying a single word, the boney detective walked away, leaving his partner to continue to observe this conversation, which had not been meant for his ears.

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><p><strong>Author's notes alerts:**

**Currently at a hotel, where I have internet - limited, but oh well. No internet at my house, though. I figured I stop this chapter here, because I just love the feel… I hope you feel the same. (: **


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: If I didn't own it yesterday, I surely don't own it today. **

**Author's notes: Last day at this place. No internet at home.**

**Chapter 21**

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><p>At a bar in New York, near the building that houses the finest detectives, two detectives that were off duty, one suspended and one taking a few days off, sat on bar stools, drinks in their hands as they talked among themselves. People crowded the bar, every corner covered, and the music bounced off the walls. It was that time of the night, where people started to pour in from all directions, leaving the two detectives to squeeze closer to each other, more than was professional.<p>

The brown haired, female detective hid a blush by moving her hair ever so slightly, and cleared her throat.

Blue piercing eyes glanced softly down at her, smirking and whispered softly. "You're so beautiful when you're flustered."

She rolled her eyes, and replied, sharply. "Oh really?"

He nodded, smiling.

The woman smirked, and lightly slapped his chest. "Stop playing around, El."

The man chuckled, shaking his head. "You need to give yourself more credit, Olivia."

She shook her head, laughing softly.

The bartender set a glass, filled with a clear liquid, down on the table in front of Olivia.

She looked at the drink, and said, confused. "I didn't ask for anything"

The bartender smiled softly; his chubby pink cheeks emphasizing his smile. "Compliments of the blonde man across from you."

Olivia looked, out of the corner of her brown eyes, at the blonde man, who sat across from her, and gasped softly. It was him; the guy from the elevator and the coffee shop.

"Something wrong, Miss?" the bartender asked, looking at her.

Olivia looked up at him, and shook her head. "No." she said softly.

The bartender nodded at her, and walked away to nurse the beverages.

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>Olivia studied the clear drink, uncertain. She sighed softly, stirring the drink slowly.<p><p>

"You gonna drink that?" Elliot asked, spooking her out of her thoughts.

She glanced over at him, and shook her head. "No." she murmured, and then looked down at her hands, sighing softly.

Elliot frowned softly, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong, Liv?"

Olivia glanced up at him, and murmured softly. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that crap, Olivia." he growled softly, his eyes staring into her intensely.

Olivia whimpered softly at his growl, tears edging the corners of her eyes.

Elliot sighed softly, and rubbed his face with his left hand, which had no ring on the finger in between his middle and pinky finger. "Please Olivia, what's wrong?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip, blinking back the fresh tears. "I think he's following me."

Elliot frowned softly at that, and looked around as he whispered "Who?"

Olivia closed her eyes, and whispered softly. "The guy next to me."

He glanced over her shoulder, and studied the blonde haired man, a soft scowl on his face. "I'll be right back." he told her gently, when the blonde haired man stood and started walking to the men's restroom, as he stood up from the bar stool.

Her eyes widened, and she gripped his hand, shaking her head. "Where are you going?"

Elliot glanced down at her, and sighed softly, not telling her what he was going to do. "The restroom, Liv."

Olivia bit her bottom lip, sighing softly. "Okay. Hurry back."

Elliot nodded, smiling softly at her, and gently caressed her cheek. "I'll protect you."

Olivia sighed softly, leaning into his delicate touch.

Elliot smiled, and slowly let his hand fall to his side, before he turned, and walked over to the men's restroom.

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><p><p>

The blonde haired man was just about to enter the stall, his black pants hiding an erection very well, when Elliot placed a rough hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Startled, the man jumped, and turned to look at him. "Excuse me." he said, trying to break away.

Elliot shook his head, refusing to let his grip loosen. "Who are you?"

The man rolled his artificial blue eyes, and replied gruffly. "Ashton. There, now can you….let go, so I can piss in peace?"

Elliot smirked at Ashton, and replied "Sure. On one condition."

Ashton smirked right back and replied "And that would be?"

"You leave my partner alone."

Smirking cockily, Ashton replied snidely. "And why would I want to do that?"

Elliot growled, and gripped the man's throat in a death grip. "Cause I said so, asshole!"

He faked fear, eyes widening, and he gasped, pretending that it really hurt.

Elliot gasped, shocked at himself, and let go, and backed away slowly. This was it; the final deed that would put him behind bars.

Ashton dusted himself off, and growled "If I wasn't so nice, I would have you arrest for assault!"

Elliot sighed relieved when the man said that, and nodded thankful, and left through the doors, without another word, and returned to Olivia, who sat on the bar stool, her drink untouched.

She glanced up when Elliot gently tapped her shoulder. "Let's go." Elliot whispered to her as he placed a crisp twenty dollar on the bar table.

She nodded slowly as she stood up, and fixed the skirt of her dress like the proper lady she was.

Elliot smiled softly at her, and grabbed her hand in his, his grip gentle. "You're all dressed up. Why?"

She glanced down at her plain black dress, and whispered "This? It's just something I threw on."

Elliot chuckled softly, shaking his head, and started to walk, side by side with her, to the exit doors of the bar.

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><p>As he walked to his car, he noticed Olivia simply standing on the sidewalk, watching as cars zoomed by, and frowned softly, confused. He slowly walked up to her, and asked softly "What are you doing?"<p>

She glanced up at him, and replied "Trying to catch a cab."

Elliot frowned softly, and asked "Why don't you use your car?"

Olivia shook her head at that, and replied "I got here in a cab, El."

Again he frowned, and asked "Why?"

Olivia laughed. "So many questions." She whispered, avoiding the question.

"Why did you use a cab, Olivia?" he asked again, looking into her eyes.

Olivia sighed softly, and glanced into his eyes. "Because he was there….near my car." When she had gone to use her car, she had saw the blonde haired man, waiting near her car with no other person in site, and for some odd reason, she felt that he was waiting for her.

Elliot frowned softly, and asked "How long has this been going on?"

Olivia looked down at her hands, and murmured "For a while."

Elliot frowned softly, and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her to his car as he whispered "Come on. I'll drive you home."

She shook her head slowly, pulling her hand away from his. "No. You don't have to do that, El. I don't want to become a bother."

Elliot shook his head. "You could never bother me, Liv."

Olivia sighed softly, and glanced up at the moon, which was full tonight.

"Please, Liv? We could rent a movie of your choice… popcorn… beer?" Elliot murmured softly, trying to convince his partner.

Olivia considered his offer, her eyes still on the moon. "Any movie?" she asked softly in a whisper.

Elliot nodded slowly, and whispered "Any."

Olivia smiled slowly, and moved her gaze from the full moon to look him in his eyes. "Beastly."

"Excuse me?" Elliot asked.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I want to see Beastly."

Elliot smiled, and nodded slowly. "Okay. We'll rent it from blockbuster?"

She shook her head, smiling. "It's a whole lot cheaper if you rent it from a red box."

Elliot chuckled, and nodded. "Of course." He said, and slowly led her to his car, opening the door for her.

Olivia smiled at him, and got inside the car.

He returned the smile as he gently shut the door, and made his way around, getting in himself.

"The closest red box is just a few miles from here." she murmured as she pulled her seatbelt on slowly.

Elliot nodded as he buckled up, and turned the key slowly, soft music pouring from the speakers as the car turned on, and he drove away into the moonlit night.

Back in the restroom in the bar, while the two off duty detectives drove in the peaceful, appearing night in a comfortable silence, the blonde haired man shook his head, chuckling evilly. Once he was sure that he was alone, he bolted the entrance to the men's restroom shut, and stepped inside one of the stalls, turning the lock. He carelessly unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper roughly down, before shoving his pants down with a groan, freeing his erection. He closed his eyes as he gripped himself in his palms, and when he reached his peak, exploding on his hands, he shouted a certain female's name with an evil smirk on his face, thoughts on how he would enjoy hearing Olivia's scream as he banged in and out of her.

With those thoughts on his mind, he reached for the toilet paper, ripping a small piece, smirking evilly. Chuckling darkly, he slowly wiped his hands clean of his own semen. He crumbled the soiled paper up into a ball, and tossed it inside the toilet, and flushed it down. He then unlocked the door, and walked out of the restroom, without washing his hands, like he hadn't just pleasured himself in a public bar.

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><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Hey there! I hope you liked this. Might be the last chapter for a while cause last day at this place that has this lovely internet. Aha. No internet at my house yet. Sadly. So Enjoy this. Hehe. I hope you enjoyed this. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the show. If I did, well you know.**

**Author's notes: Just got my internet at home back. However, my tenth grade year is said to be the toughest. So don't expect frequent updates. This is kind of short, but I think it's complete - the chapter, not the story. **

**Chapter 22**

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><p>The door shut; All four locks turned and bolted tightly, and the deadbolt securely locked. A warm body leaned against the door, hand on her speeding heart. As the warm body took uneven, heavy and frantic breaths, her chest rose up and down. Her neck snapped to the left, hearing a soft, eerie tap against the glass of the living room window. She held her breath as the squeaking sound of the window being opened met her ears. She closed her fright filled eyes, and muttered a few prayers under her breath, which was unusual for this woman, who had no faith in religion.<p>

The shrill ring resounded throughout the tension filled room, and she stood there like a statue as it continued to ring. Slowly, she extended a hand, blindly grabbing the telephone from the table, without removing herself from the spot against the door.

"Hello?" She asked in a whisper, her voice cracking with fear.

On the other line, there was heavy breathing, and as she went to lower the phone, a voice spoke up, causing her to grip the phone tightly.

"I will never let you free." A rough, gruff voice rasped; It was as if whoever was talking had their mouth directly against the area of the phone, where one was to speak. Before she had time to think logically, the line went dead.

She felt her legs become jelly, and she slumped down on the floor. The phone slipped out of her frail hold, hot tears finding their way down her cheeks. Gradually, she raised her head, and gasped as in the darkness of the room, her eyes connected with the sharp and familiar green eyes.

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><p>The thin blanket that covered the woman as she dozed on the couch had fallen off and covered the floor below her as she tossed around restlessly. She screamed out in fear as she suddenly jumped upright on the couch. She looked around, eyes filled with tears, and expected to see those same green eyes, but was simply met with the neon numbers of the digital alarm clock, which showed that it was twenty minutes past midnight. Hot tears slid down her slender face, and she sat there on the couch, unsure of what to do; she couldn't possibly close her eyes, because then she would fallen asleep, and if she fell asleep, he would be there.<p>

Sighing softly in despair, she stood from the couch, intent on avoiding her nightmares. Slipping on her jacket, she slipped out of the front door, and into the early dawn, hoping that the fresh air, or as fresh as the air in New York could get, would do her well, but being alone in New York before the sun had a chance to shine its first ray of light might have been the worst thing for her.

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><p><p>

**Author's notes: **

**Wrote this on paper on Sep. the 8th****, and on paper it was 2 pages long. I figured this was a perfect ending for this chapter. How many of you actually thought he had made his move? xD**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: If I didn't own it yesterday, how would I own it today? **

**Author's notes:**

**Gonna try and keep a pace, so as not to rush this. I hope I did well. Let me know what you all think; I need to know so I can improve. **

**Chapter 23**

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><p>She kept her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, which did little to keep her warm, as she slowly dragged her feet against the slippery, snow covered sidewalk. A gust of wind blew by and chilled her paling, tan face. She blinked back the tears, lost in her thoughts, the cold not registering in her fragile mind. She became frozen as the sound of a twig snapping after being stepped on entered her sensitive ears. Slowly, she turned her head, and looked behind herself.<p>

Behind her on the snowy sidewalk, a twig, which had been stepped on and broken in half, laid in the center. Her bottom lip trembled as she caught sight of the human footstep imprints on the snow. She glanced up and expected to be met with whoever had caused such footsteps, but as she did, a large gust of icy wind blew against her face, causing her to shut her eyes. When she opened her eyes at last, rubbing them with her fists, the footsteps were gone.

She frowned softly, and she whispered out loud to herself as she rubbed her temples. "Get it together, Benson."

In the distance, hidden by the depth of the bushes that surrounded the area, piercing unfriendly blue eyes watched her, a cruel smirk on his face.

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><p>In the station, it appeared that things were not going the way that the detectives of the Special Victims Unit had hoped. The little evidence that they had managed to collect had been enough to bring the hairstylist to trial in court, but due to how weak the evidence had been, the defense had torn it to shreds. With the evidence dirtied, the jury couldn't honestly declare the man as guilty, and therefore Henry had been declared an innocent man.<p>

As the verdict of not guilty was read, Henry turned to his attorney, a smile on his face. He grabbed his hand, and shook it in gratitude. Since he had been declared an innocent man, his little salon in the middle of nowhere would not be shut down. "Thank you."

Mr. Dave Gill, surprised by his client's action, took a moment to reply. "Uh. No problem. I was just doing a job." He pulled his hand back, and when he was sure that Henry wasn't paying attention, he wiped his hand against his black dress pants. He slowly grabbed his suitcase, and walked out with his client.

Fin stood there in the emptying courthouse, his arms crossed over his chest, as he watched helplessly as the only man, who could have possibly lead the detectives to Mark Cane, walked out through the doors into the world as a free man.

* * *

><p>Fin growled softly as the doors shut behind the attorney and client. He turned to Munch. "How could we just let him walk?"<p>

Munch lowered his glasses, and looked into Fin's eyes as he spoke. "We have nothing more to hold him on."

Fin rubbed his temples, and asked in a whisper. "We could have had him for helping an escaped con!"

"There was no solid proof." Munch replied, and sighed softly.

"We had pictures of Mark entering, and then some other man leaving, and Mark never leaving! Isn't that proof enough?" Fin objected, arms crossed.

As Munch opened his mouth to reply, a familiar stranger, who had been sitting silently in the courthouse, walked up to the detectives. The stranger, holding a file in his hands, looked at Munch. The detective simply nodded at him.

"Circumstantial." The stranger said, answering Fin's question, as he handed the file to Munch.

Munch arched an eyebrow, and opened the file slowly. He silently skimmed the pictures that were contained inside, and gasped softly.

The stranger nodded, understanding what Munch was feeling; for he had felt the same himself when he had looked at the pictures.

Fin, who had been silent, asked as he slowly uncrossed his arms. "Who are you?"

The stranger looked at the other detective, and replied "My name is not important. I go by Stranger."

"Okay. So…what's in the file?" Fin asked, and stepped closer to Munch, trying to see for himself. He frowned softly as he saw Olivia in one of the pictures, and he glared at the stranger. "Why the hell are you taking pictures of Detective Benson?"

The stranger shook his head slowly, and replied "It's not the detective that I have been following. It's the man in all the pictures."

A frown still on his face, Fin slowly looked again, and gasped as he saw that the same blue eyed, blonde haired man was in every single picture.

The stranger nodded, pleased that the detectives were aware, and spoke. "I think it's time you put protective detail on Detective Benson."

Fin shook his head. "Nah. Benson is a tough girl. Besides, she would never agree to that."

"Of course. That's why you don't ask her if she wants protection or not." The stranger said.

Fin frowned softly, and said "I don't know…"

The stranger nodded, and looked at his watch. "Well, I have to leave." He looked at Munch. "You still have my business card?"

Munch slowly nodded as he replied "I do."

The stranger gave a slight nod, and bid his farewells as he walked out the door of the courthouse, leaving both detectives alone in silence.

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><p>Elliot grumbled as he sat up in his bed, awoken from the persistent knocks on his apartment's door - even the nightmares that haunted him every night hadn't managed to awaken him from his slumber. He glanced at his digital clock, and groaned at the time shown, which was not even five in the morning. He pushed the covers away, and stood from his bed. Noticing that he only wore his black boxers, he grabbed his blue, silk robe, and slipped it on.<p>

The knocks continued as he approached the door, and he swore under his breath, and exclaimed, "I'm coming, damn it!"

The knocks slowly faded at his angry words, and he sighed softly as he opened the door. He had planned to say some nasty things to the person on the other side for having woken him up before the sun had rose, but the sight that greeted him seemed to take the words away from him.

Olivia stood there, her cheeks stained in tears, arms crossed over her chest as she shivered from the cold; her jacket hadn't been enough to keep her warm.

Without exchanging any words, he gently wrapped his arms around his partner, pulling her into the apartment. He shut the door with his foot, and then brought her over to the living room. He sat her down on the couch in front of the slowly dying roar of the chimney. He added more wood, causing the fire to jump to life, filling the room with warmth. He walked towards the linen closet, and when he walked back, he held a thick blanket in his hands, which he draped around her shivering, frail form.

Olivia closed her eyes, sighing softly. She opened and closed her mouth multiple times as she tried to find her voice. "He's following me…he's not gonna give up, El. He's never going to give up!" she whispered, and she nibbled on her quivering bottom lip, letting out a sad sob.

Elliot looked at her, and asked softly. "Who is, Liv?"

Olivia slowly looked up at him, and whispered, tears edging her eyes once more. "Mark."

Elliot frowned at the mention of the man, who had harmed his partner, and asked, his expression tight. "Did you see him?"

Olivia sighed softly, and shook her head. "Well…not exactly. But…I have this feeling….that he's following me." She took a deep breath, and then released it. "And…I had this dream." She started to sob as she remembered it. "It felt so real, El."

Elliot wrapped his arms around her from behind, and softly hushed her. "Shh… You're safe…You're safe." He repeated those words, not for the sake of his partner, but for his own sake, because he needed to believe it himself. He closed his eyes, fighting off his own tears. He couldn't break down as well. What good would he be to his partner if he started to cry?

Her sobs slowly stopped, and when her eyes finally became dry, no more tears were shed. Her eyes were shut, and she was breathing evenly in her partner's arms.

Elliot looked down at Olivia and sighed softly as he realized that his partner had cried herself to sleep. With his thumb, he gently wiped her fallen tears away from her cheeks, and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Olivia mumbled softly in her sleep, and her nose twitched ever so slightly at the feeling of his warm lips against her chilled forehead.

Elliot smiled softly at her, and slowly stood, holding her in his arms. He gently laid her down on the couch, and covered her with the blanket. He stood there, watching her sleeping figure. Just as Olivia had turned her head in her sleep, he had leaned in to softly peck her cheek, causing his lips to touch hers momentarily. His eyes widened at the sensation of her lips against his, and he pulled away quickly. However the spark he had felt was unmistakable and absolutely undeniable.

As she laid there innocently in her sleep, her lips seemed to be calling him and he was tempted to kiss her. He shook his head clear of such thoughts, and sighed softly as he placed a warm hand against her icy cheek. He gently caressed her cheek, and murmured "Goodnight, Liv." He then walked back upstairs, towards his bedroom, where nightmares of losing his partner would haunt him as they did every night.

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><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Well, I'm a bit iffy with the ending, but I think it's a good ending in a way. What you all think?**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show because if I did, Meloni would have been in Season 13's premiere. **

**Author's notes: I hope that you enjoy this little chapter that is just basically gonna be a filler chapter to get this story moving. Oh, and it's short.**

**Chapter 24**

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><p>On the corner of the desk, which had been abandoned ever since the long, almost distant night of the tragic incident, sat a woman. She glanced up as she felt the familiar stare of her captain and heard a door close behind him as he approached her.<p>

His rosy cheekbones curved with slight wrinkles as his lips curved upward into a amiable smile. "Olivia." He greeted in a gentle, warmhearted tone.

A small hint of a smile flashed across her beautiful yet scarred face, and then it was gone; her lips pressed together in a fine line.

There was a moment of silence between the captain and this detective, who had been away much longer than either would have preferred. The silence that had filled the room was slowly torn away as the doors of the 1-6 were pushed opened, and the room was filled with the chattering voices of two more detectives.

The boney, white haired detective lowered his glasses on his face, and nodded at the woman before he situated himself onto the cushion of the black, rolling chair that resided at his cluttered desk. His partner, who seemed a bit anxious, took his seat across from him.

"Now that we are all here, minus Stabler, who is still suspended . . . ," begun the captain after the detectives had all settled in their seats. He then begun to explain why they were all gathered up in the bullpen on a Saturday morning, and although he spoke to all of his detectives, his eyes remained locked on the woman's eyes, never breaking eye contact as he spoke to his detectives in all seriousness.

The woman watched the captain with wide, vivid eyes as he spoke with a dramatic tone, and as he came to a finish, her mouth slowly dropped.

". . . And that's an order. Not a choice, Detectives." He finished by maintaining his eyes connected with the female detective's wide eyes, who was the reason and the subject of concern for the little meeting in the bullpen - the other two detectives were simply there to make the woman, who had already been revoked of a personal choice in the past, feel a little less threatened by this decision, which she had not had a say in.

She closed her mouth after realizing that arguing with her captain would be futile, and she sighed softly as she ran a hand through her long, silk-like hair.

The captain gave the detectives one final stare down before he swiftly turned on his heels and walked back to his office, the window blinds closed.

* * *

><p>She looked around the room, and met eyes with the other detectives. She smiled slightly at them; an attempt to be friendly.<p>

Fin, who had been dreading the speech that the woman would make if she found out what he had done, nodded and smiled softly at her.

His partner simply raised his glasses after he gave a slight nod, and resumed typing up a report on a recent case that his partner and him had just closed.

She sighed softly, and stood from her desk. She grabbed her purse, and attracted the attention of her colleagues as she did so. Despite their attempts to ask her what she was doing and where she was going, the woman walked out of the doors without a word to either of the detectives.

Halfway down the sidewalk, she could hear footsteps following behind her; she could tell by the soft barely there sounds of shoes rubbing against concrete that whoever was following her was probably about a good two or three feet behind her because any closer and it would be too obvious.

She stopped, simply to test if her theory was correct. She sighed as the footsteps stopped the moment she stilled on the sidewalk. With as much discretion as the woman could manage, she quietly looked around and behind herself. Her lips slowly fell down into a soft pout as she saw three men in black suits behind her. She had understood by her captain's strong and long speech about her safety that he had been serious about the detail, but she hadn't imagined that the tail would begin right after. She sighed, and resumed pacing through the streets of New York City with the protective detail right on her tail, just a mere few feet behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Whenever I write a chapter and it's short, I feel a little iffy about it, so it's up to you guys to tell me if this is good. Please and thank you!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. Simple as that. **

**Author's notes: Sorry for the delay. Busy with school work. Gonna be even more busy cause I just got enrolled in more classes. So, sorry in advance. Oh, and… enjoy. **

**Chapter 25**

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><p>Two men, who both wore shades over their eyes, dressed in black suits treaded a safe yet close distance behind Olivia as she approached the brown wooden door of her partner's apartment. Slowly raising her fist, she rapped it softly against the door. She glanced around herself as she awaited the familiar sounds of her partner's imminent footsteps. She sighed softly when she caught sight of the men, whom she had attempted to lose on the subway but to no avail. She closed her eyes as she heard the clicking sound of the lock being turned. She released a breath, lungs expanding; she hadn't even been aware that she had stopped breathing for a moment.<p>

The door opened halfway, exposing her partner; he wore gray slacks and he had a five o'clock shadow on his chin. His lips curved upward into a soft, welcoming smile as his eyes found hers.

Olivia's eyes remained connected with his, and she slowly returned the smile, though her smile was a bit more forced.

* * *

><p>When Elliot's eyebrow arched up slightly, Olivia knew that he had most likely spotted the protection that had been assigned to her. Elliot studied the men, who stood there like statues, one hand on their federal appointed weapon that was hoisted at their waists, prepared for the unexpected.<p>

Olivia let out a nervous chuckle, and whispered, her tone sarcastic, and left hand rubbing her right arm as she spoke. "A whole lot of good they do."

She glanced over her shoulder at the men, who barely made any indication of hearing what she had just said. Turning back to look at her partner, she explains softly, "The captain ordered a detail for me."

Before he could even joke about why she was going along with it so easily, she added. "I have no choice, according to the captain." She looks up at him, and sighed in relief as she was met with his understanding gaze.

Elliot nodded as he kept his gaze set on her, ignoring the company of the other men. "I understand."

Olivia smiles up at him, and a thought came to her mind. "El?" she asked in a soft whisper.

Elliot's eyes seemed to sparkle a brighter blue, almost sapphire, when the nickname came out of her lips - the lips that he had felt the last night that she had slept over. "Yes, love?" he asked in a soft whisper, his voice filled with love as he remembered that night; using these terms of endearment with her had become a habit - a habit that Olivia didn't mind him having.

Her cheeks flushed a soft rosy color at the fact that his voice when he had said love had sounded so intimate and full of pure love itself , Olivia slowly replied in a hesitant whisper. "Can I-" She trailed off as she begun to doubt herself.

What if she asked and then he felt like she was intruding? Was she spending too much time with him? Maybe she should get a hobby that wasn't him. Yeah. That's what she needed. A hobby. She sighed softly as she tucked her hands inside her pockets, so she wouldn't fidget.

Although Olivia hadn't finished her thought, Elliot seemed to understand what his partner had been trying to say.

"Of course. Come into my lovely cave." Elliot murmured with a soft smile as he let the door open all the way, exposing the mess that his lovely cave was in - empty beer bottles thrown about and dirty laundry on the floor and furniture. Ignoring the mess that his place was in, he motioned for her to come inside his apartment.

Her lips curved into a small smile as she realized that they still had that mental connection with one another; being apart hadn't altered that, if anything it had strengthened it. She slowly lifted her feet off the floor, taking a step inside, and almost as if given an order, the two men followed her inside.

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><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**Well there is the chapter 25. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you understand why I make late updates. :3 **


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: Do not own the show.**

**Author's notes: I hope you like. Got this idea while in the shower. **

**Chapter 26**

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><p>Three months had passed, and Mark Cane had yet to make a move on his prey. He was getting more clever; only going out when the city was asleep.<p>

Meanwhile, Olivia frowned as she kneeled, hovering over the dead body of a girl, who could be no more than sixteen. She shook her head in disgust as she stood up from the ground to face her partner, who had returned to the job just about two weeks ago.

"Any id on the girl?" Elliot asked in a soft solemn whisper.

She shook her head, her brown locks falling in her face. "No." she whispered.

He sighed softly, running his hand over his face. "She's just a child." He murmured softly, closing his eyes. He hated these cases, where minors were involved; the cases were never easy.

The tan man, Ryan, waved the detectives over to him, where he stood, gloves on, examining a suspicious piece of paper, which had been found not too far from the scene of the crime.

Taking a deep breath, Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson slowly walked over to the man. Elliot glanced over the man's shoulder, and frowned softly, not understanding what he was looking at.

"What are we looking at, Ryan?" He asked, glancing up into the man's eyes.

With a gloved finger, he pointed at a drop of blood on the edge of the paper. "This. The paper must have gave our perp a cut-"

Olivia interrupted with a question. "So, you probably have his DNA?"

He nodded as he bagged the note in an evidence bag. "I'll let you two know when the results are in."

Elliot nodded as he and his partner turned and walked over to the NYPD issued police sudan.

* * *

><p>Once inside the comfy warm atmosphere of the car, the detectives slowly pulled their seat belts forward, strapping themselves in.<p>

Olivia glanced at her partner, and she furrowed her brows, sensing that it was more than this case that was bugging her partner. "El?" she murmured, gently, not wanting to spook him.

He glanced up slowly, not saying a word.

"El?" she repeated softly, extending her left hand and she placed it on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

He shut his eyes with a soft sigh. "Liv." he croaked. "It's him. I know it."

She shook her head; his words refused to click inside her brain. "What?" she whispered.

He opened his eyes, which were crowded with unshed tears. "Mark." he whispered. "It has to be Mark."

Olivia's throat felt dry; she had never seen her partner cry before, and to be honest, it wasn't right. Elliot Stabler wasn't supposed to cry, and especially not in front of her. She shook her head as she looked away, stubbornly. "No."

He sighed softly, gritting his teeth as he replied. "Liv…please, just listen-"

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she snapped "El, he hasn't hit in three whole months… Three whole freaking months, El! What would make him hit now? Huh? And a teen? El, isn't she a bit too young to fit his type?"

Elliot bit his tongue to hold back a remark, which he would regret, and remained silent as he turned away, eyes focused now on the road as he pushed his foot lightly against the accelerator, and begun to drive away from the scene.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Hope you enjoy this! Enjoy it. I'm busy with school. So you enjoy this. **


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything but any characters I may have made.**

**Author's notes: Enjoy. This chapter was kind of hard for me to write.**

**Chapter 27**

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><p>"Unless the evidence that Ryan found backs up Elliot's theory," Olivia told the detectives in the bullpen as she sat down with a soft sigh. "I, honestly, doubt that Mark Cane is connected to this young girl's rape and murder."<p>

Elliot Stabler flashed his partner a sharp look, but he did not attempt to make a snide remark. Instead, the detective managed to maintain his calm as he replied, speaking to all of the detectives in the room. "It can't be a coincident that our Jane Doe has the exact same marks left on her neck that were left on Mark Cane's other victims."

The detectives, then, looked at Detective John Much as the man spoke up from where he sat.

"Actually, the possibilities that Cane is involved are slim to none," Detective Munch informed Elliot as he typed in Mark Cane's MO onto the computer. He leaned back on his chair as he waited for the page to load, and the others begun to chatter among themselves again.

"Aha," Munch exclaimed softly as the page finally loaded, and the other detectives' attention once again snapped back to him. He raised his glasses slightly as he read the page.

His partner, Fin, stood up from his chair. The detective then went to stand behind him, reading over the man's shoulder. "According to what Munch found, there are at least ten people, who fit the role,." Fin said.

"Can you narrow it down?," Olivia asked as she begun her own search.

Munch gave a slight nod and asked "About how old was Jane Doe?"

Solemnly, Elliot Stabler replied softly, "Sixteen."

The older detective nodded and he typed that in the proper area and pressed enter. He gave a slight nod to Elliot, silently asking the younger detective to come over.

Elliot looked up at him, and slowly walked over to Munch, "Yeah?"

Munch asked him as he pointed to the screen with a pencil, "Who do you like for this?"

Without glancing at the screen, he replied, "Mark Cane."

Munch sighed softly, and shook his head, "We have to look at other people. We can't just go off a hunch, Elliot."

"But what if the hunch is right?," Elliot snapped, and walked away. He grabbed his coat and wallet, stuffing it into his back pocket.

"Where are you going, El?," Olivia asked softly as she stood up, pushing her chair in.

Elliot gave her a mere glance and replied "Out," Without waiting to see how his partner would react, he headed out the doors.

"Go ahead," Fin whispered softly to Olivia as he saw the internal struggle building within her.

Olivia looked over at him and nodded, grabbing her own stuff.

"Fill me in later on what you two find out," She whispered as she rushed out the doors, hoping that she wasn't too late.

* * *

><p>She didn't have to walk very far because the moment she stepped outside, she found him sitting on a bench that was not too far from the door. She slowly sat down next to him, coat wrapped tightly around herself, protecting herself from New York's blistering winds.<p>

He glanced up at her when she sat, but then he quickly looked back down at his hands.

Sighing softly, Olivia whispered, breaking the ice between them, "This isn't just about the new case? It's something more, isn't it?"

Surprise filled his blue eyes at her words that couldn't have been more right, and he muttered, "Yes and no."

Olivia looked at his face, trying to read him, "What do you mean?"

He sighed softly, rubbing his face with his hands, "It's… complicated."

She frowned softly as she studied him, and she whispered quietly, "Just how complicated is it, El?"

"Very complicated," He replied as he looked her in the eyes this time; his blue piercing eyes giving nothing away.

As she opened her mouth to question him further, a high pitched, pained scream entered her ears. She frowned, and asked him, "Did you hear that?"

He, too, had heard the scream. "Yeah," He nodded.

The detectives jumped up as the scream became louder; filled with more pain. "Stop! Help! Anybody! Help!"

Elliot placed a hand on the gun in his holster; likewise, Olivia did the same. Their feet made no sound as they tiptoed towards the sound. The screams became stronger and louder as they neared the source of the screams.

* * *

><p>When they reached the spot where the screams were coming from, both detectives pulled their guns out and pointed it at a masked man, who held a petite blonde, not more than sixteen, in his hands.<p>

"Let the girl go now, " Olivia ordered in a scream, her gun pointed at the man. When the man ignored her, she pulled the safety off her gun, and exclaimed, "Don't think I won't do it!"

The man smirked and glanced up at the detectives. He was taunting them. "Go ahead, Detective. Shoot."

Olivia's eyes widened as the man's voice entered her ears. She closed her eyes as she was hit with flashbacks. It felt so real. _She was back in her apartment. The knife was once again to her neck. He was thrusting inside her mouth. Grunting. Enjoying her pain. He was_ - _Bam!_ At the sound of a gun being fired she slowly opened her eyes, which were clouded with her tears.

Her partner was slowly lowering his weapon, walking towards the masked man, who was on the floor, grunting in pain as he held his leg. The girl had scurried away from her attacker's now weak grip, and let out a heartbreaking sob.

Elliot rolled his eyes at the man's groans of pain as he retrieved his hand cuffs. "Oh, shut up."

Glaring up at the detective, the masked man replied, "I should have you reported for using unnecessary force, and your badge revoked!"

Smirking, he roughly grabbed the man, and cuffed his hands behind his back. "Good luck doing that from your cell," With those words, he shoved the masked man towards the prescient, which left Olivia alone with the young fragile girl.

* * *

><p>She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She had to be strong. She wasn't the victim anymore. When she was sure that she could speak without giving away to her brokenness, she approached the girl.<p>

The girl, still a bit shaken from her attack, screamed at her, backing away. "No! Don't come any closer!"

Olivia stopped in mid-step, and sighed softly, "I'm not going to hurt you."

The blonde haired girl simply shook her head, tears falling down her pale face. "That's what the man said," she whispered, without looking up.

Olivia had a pen and notepad ready in her hands. "What?"

Slowly, the girl glanced up at Olivia, and whispered, her voice shaking as she spoke. "He… told me… that he wasn't going to hurt me… but he did."

Olivia frowned softly. "What's your name?"

"Lauren. Lauren Cane," She whispered, not noticing the way Olivia's eyes widened in shock.

"By any chance, is your father Mark Cane?"

Lauren nodded, wiping at her tears. "Yeah."

Scribbling that down, she asked her. "Do you know the man, who attacked you?"

This was where things became complicated. "No," She whispered as she looked Olivia straight in the eyes, and it was not a lie.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Well I myself did not expect this outcome. What you all think? Review letting me know because without reviews, I do not improve. Thank you.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I do not claim any ownership. **

**Author's notes: Wrote some of this during lunch. Hope it meets your expectations! **

**Chapter 28**

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><p>"Okay, you can start when you're ready," Olivia whispered to the young girl, Lauren Cane. Her soothingly soft, caring voice seemed to fill the gray bare room with warmth and compassion.<p>

The blonde haired girl slowly nodded, and quietly murmured as she tucked a stray strand behind her ear, "I- I'm ready."

The detective studied the girl, who sat on the lumpy couch next to her, for a moment before she gently asked, "The man, who attacked you… what was his voice like?"

"Rough," the frail girl replied; there was this far away glint in her eyes as she spoke. "And… hoarse."

As the detective jotted that down onto the yellow stained notepad, she left an eye trained on the girl's trembling figure, studying her.

"He… whispered that he wouldn't hurt me as he… wrapped his arms… broad and hard… around me," Lauren was now lost in the moment, unaware of the observing detective. "But, I knew he would. You know? I just knew."

Olivia didn't interrupt as she listened to the girl speak, quietly jotting things that seemed important down.

Her voice cracked slightly as she whispered, "And uh… I don't know why I didn't run. I… should have done something. I mean… I took classes to prepare for this. But…I just… couldn't." She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her face.

Slowly, not wanting to spook the girl, the detective placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Lauren gasped softly, and glanced at Olivia.

Olivia smiled softly as she whispered, "Lauren, you survived. That is all that matters, honey."

Lauren sighed, shaking her head. "Can…. We finish this later?"

Olivia nodded as she slowly stood from the couch, "Sure."

"Olivia?"

She glanced back over at her. "Hmm?"

"I'm tired."

Olivia smiled as she replied softly, "Take a few."

Lauren nodded, yawning against her hand, and she curled her feet underneath herself, laying on her side. Her eyes slowly closed as sleep found her.

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><p>The door slammed shut as the detective joined her partner. The dominant form of her partner didn't move from where he leaned against the wall of the interrogation room, which was empty with just the necessary table and two chairs. However, the man, who had been masked, jumped slightly in the metal chair. He had been stripped of his mask; his face was stoic as she approached. His eyes followed her movements. Her partner remained where he stood.<p>

Sitting herself on the corner of the table, Olivia asked, "So tell me, Mr. Jones, how do you know Lauren Cane?"

His face made no sign of emotion as he replied, "Who?" When Olivia gave him a slight glare, he chuckled darkly. "Oh, her."

She remained poised, trying to intimidate the man.

"I'm not going to talk," he saw through the detective; "So," he leaned forward in his chair, getting too close to her personal space. "What did he do to you?"

Olivia's eyes widened in shock, and she stuttered. "W- what?"

Elliot stayed leaned against the wall; he knew his partner would be horrified if he tried to step in. She could take care of herself, or so she says.

The man smirked, feeding off of the emotions pouring out of the detective. "Back there, when I had her… where you go?"

She attempted to play it off, but it was obvious. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't lie, detective," Mr. Jones said; his hoarse, rough voice caused her bones to chill.

She shook her head. She was not about to be intimidated by a perp. No. Not again. "I think we're done here."

"Ha. You'll be back," he called after her retreating form.

Olivia rolled her eyes, and choose not to reply. She opened the door, and as she exited, she shared a look with her partner, and she just knew. This case was not going to be easy; and that maybe, there was more to the case than what was shown on the surface. But what exactly, she could only begin to imagine.

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><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

**Mmm… I ended it there because it sounds right. **


	29. Chapter 29

** Disclaimer: I do not own any rights.**

**Author's notes: I hope you enjoy. It's almost one am.**

**Chapter 29**

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><p>She walked over to the vending machine, which is placed against the wall. As she pressed the button to cause a bag of chips to fall down, unwanted picture frames jumped out at her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to push them away. However, she was not strong enough.<p>

_She can feel his body pressed against hers. His hot breath against her ear as he drags her inside her apartment, the cold metal of the knife lightly dancing on her flesh._

"Olivia?"

Her eyes fluttered open at the gentle, familiar voice of her partner. She turned her head to face him and offered him a small smile.

"Are you okay, Liv?" he asked softly, studying her.

It took her a moment to realize that he was asking her a question and she nodded her head up and down.

Staring her in the eyes, he murmured, "You sure?"

She gnawed at her bottom lip with her perfect, white teeth. "Honestly, I have a bad feeling, El."

Elliot frowned softly. "What do you mean?"

Stuffing her hands in her gray sweater pockets, she said in a soft whisper, "Somehow, I feel that Mark had this man attack his daughter, so we would be off his tail."

"Are you sure?" Olivia gave him a look that made him add softly, "I mean, hours ago, you were trying to convince me otherwise."

"That was hours ago," she replied with a shake of her head. "This is now."

Slowly, he smiled at her. "Welcome to the dark side," he tried to joke.

She cracked a smile, and whispered, "Well, lets get to work, partner."

* * *

><p>Somewhere in Queens, Ashton, otherwise known as Mark, walked inside a crappy, rundown motel, a passed out young lady in his arms. The lady at the desk barely took notice of the man as he signed in at the front, and left with a key in his hands. Pushing the room door open, he smirked as he caught sight of the bed in the middle of the room.<p>

"Perfect," he growled to himself as he gently laid the young girl down on the bed. Caressing her pale cheek, he murmured softly. "Wake up, beautiful."

Slowly, the girl's eyes fluttered open, revealing two fright filled brown eyes.

He placed a finger to her plump lips, and hushed her before she even screamed. "It will be a whole lot of easier for you if you don't fight me."

Tears edge this girl's eyes and she blinked back the tears, whimpering softly against his finger, but she doesn't scream. She's too afraid. So many thoughts are running through her terrified mind.

He leaned his head down, and kissed the stray tears. "Don't cry," he whispered softly against her cheek.

His voice only managed to make the girl leak more tears. She's frightened. She's confused. "What do you want?"

He smirked, and kissed her lips, receiving no response from her, but that was expected. "What every sane guy wants," he murmured against her plump lips before settling himself on top of the weak, frail young girl. "And you're such a good girl, you'll give it to me, right?"

Fearing premature death, she nodded her head, tears falling down her face, staining her cheeks. "Just don't kill me."

He ran his fingers along her cheek in an almost, but not quite, caring manner. She stared up into his cold eyes.

Her scream of pure agony was muted by his lips on hers as he forced his way inside her, stealing her innocence. He worked his way inside her, slowly tearing her from the inside out; he left nothing about her intact. When the task was complete and he had exploded inside the poor girl, he pulled out with a soft grunt and stared down at the girl, admiring his work. Blood surrounded her legs, coating the sheets. The girl had been a virgin. Something about that made him want to celebrate. He was sick and he liked it. He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and whispered "You were almost as good as your mother Diana."

Her eyes widened but before she could question the man about the knowledge of her dead mother, the woman he had killed and raped himself, he was gone, leaving the tainted girl alone in the crappy motel.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**The rape scene was unexpected but I was like… aye… why not? XD I hope this isn't too crude.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Diclaimer: I own no rights to the show**

**Author's note: Wrote this during Music Theory cause I had the time!**

**Chapter 30**

* * *

><p>Dimmed eyes glanced at the pale body, which lay on the crappy motel bed. Aside for the deathly smell, the girl appeared to be asleep.<p>

"Please tell me she went quickly," the detective's voice was pleading as she spoke.

A soft breathless sigh left the medical examiner, "No such luck."

Pinching the bridges of her nose, she shut her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Rising to her feet, the woman said softly, "I'm sorry, Olivia."

At the personal use of her name, the detective asked, "How-," her voice trailed off, unable to finish. She inhaled deeply, "Melinda, how-"

The woman observed the detective with soft, gentle eyes.

Gesturing at the stiff body, Olivia asked in a soft whisper, "How can anyone do this to a teenager, or to anyone?"

She should have known better than to ask questions that were best avoided. The years she had spent living and breathing for the unit had dimmed her inner fire and tainted her white vision with black spots.

Melinda shrugged softly, "I don't have the answers you need."

Sniffling quietly and fighting off the threatening tears, "Okay . . . I - let me know when you do the kit," without staying to hear the woman's reply, Olivia turned on her heels and walked out.

She glanced up at the gray clouds and wiped at her falling tears. However as the clouds begun to weep along with her, she allowed her tears to meet and blend with the rain. Not only did the weather hide her weakness, but it also consoled the crying woman; at least she wasn't alone in her pain.

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><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Good, eh? Tell me, symbolism, found any? **


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I claim no rights to this show.**

**Author's notes: Pardon my late updates, but I have school. (: Aha. Just be happy, I still write. This chapter is gonna have like a slight time jump. Enjoy. **

**Chapter 31**

* * *

><p>Sitting in a warm office, on leather chairs and throw pillows, facing one another, were a woman and a man. The woman looked hesitant, almost like she really did not want to be where she was at the moment, whereas the man across from her was calm and patient.<p>

"Detective," begun the man in a soft, soothing tone, "Start when you're ready."

Her brown eyes moist, the detective glanced up at the man. She opened her mouth to speak; however, no sound came out.

Leaning in slightly, the man whispered caringly, "Olivia?"

Shaking her head, Olivia abruptly stood from her seat. "This was a mistake," she muttered as she glanced out the window, towards the cloudy sky.

Slowly he rose from his chair, and in soft whisper, he asked "Why do you say that?"

Wiping at a few of her spare tears, she looked over at him. "I'm only here because I had no choice."

The man smiled softly at her, and whispered "You always have a choice."

She shook her head in disagreement. "Cragen told me that I had to see you. It was an order. I can't disobey an order." She argued.

"But, you didn't have to listen. You choose to listen, Olivia," he responded softly.

Olivia breathed in softly, realizing that the man in front of her was right. Her eyes glanced at the open door, and then over at the man. Playing with fire, knowing the consequences, she walked out the door.

* * *

><p>Her partner glanced up at her as she entered the bullpen. He gave a soft smile, resting his chin on his palms.<p>

Olivia returned the smile with a soft grimace of a smile, taking her seat across her partner.

Leaning over their joined desks, Elliot asked "How did it go?"

Olivia shrugged, looking up at him. "Okay, I guess."

He rolled his eyes, and muttered softly. "Bullshit, Olivia." Taking a deep breath, he asked "What did you tell the shrink?"

She sighed softly, and muttered "Nothing."

One stare into her eyes and he was able to realize that she was not lying to him. "Olivia, you're not doing yourself any good by not opening up to Huang." He held a hand up as she went to object, and shook his head at her. "Cragen could have made you see a psychiatrist on the record; be happy he's ordering you to see Huang off the record."

"Elliot, I don't need therapy. I'm fine."

He studied her eyes, and whispered, "That's not what your eyes are telling me."

She rolled her eyes, and muttered "Stop that crap."

He sighed softly and looked down at a file on his desk.

She raised an eyebrow, and asked softly "What's that?"

He looked up at her, and replied "Dr. Warner's findings."

Her ears seemed to perk at his words, and she stared him in the eyes. "Was the girl raped?" It was obvious, she realized, but it was a question that she had to ask.

He gave a slight nod as he opened the file. "Yeah, and drugged."

She closed her eyes, and asked softly, "Drugged? With what?"

Without having to go back to the text, having read through the report several times that he had memorized it, Elliot replied softly. "Rohypnol."

She closed her eyes, and muttered. "What killed her?" She figured that blood she witnessed at the crime scene had to be her cause of death.

"Allergic reaction," he said softly.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she asked softly, "What was all the blood from?"

Frowning, he replied "Warner said the girl was a virgin . . ." he shook his head in disgust, "Our man is getting sicker and sicker."

Olivia nodded slowly in agreement, and she asked, "Do we have a name, yet?"

Elliot shook his head, and said "No, but Warner sent finger prints of our victim to the lab, we should have-" The telephone on Eliot's side of the desks rung, and he muttered, "Speaking of the devil," as he answered the phone and put it on speaker phone.

* * *

><p>"You'll never believe this," begun O'Halloran, flipping through findings.<p>

"What?" Elliot asked, staring over at Olivia.

"Well, of course your victim wasn't in the system, so I did a partial." Ryan said, typing something into his computer as he spoke.

"And?" Olivia urged.

"I found a match to two different people." He replied.

"Who?" Elliot asked, basically on the edge of his seat.

"Well, she matches to one of your previous victims, and she also matches with a escaped convict's DNA." O'Halloran replied.

"Ryan, their names?" Olivia said, beginning to get impatient.

"Diana Shine, and Mark Cane," Ryan said with a slight frown.

"They're not related," Olivia whispered, "How…does the victim match both of them?"

"There must have been an affair . . . Or, he raped her years before he actually murdered her." Ryan replied.

The detectives nodded slowly, and Elliot said "Okay, thank you, Ryan. We'll work from there."

"Good luck," Ryan said before he hung up, and Elliot placed the phone down.

"Was there any reported cases sixteen years ago by Diana Shine?" Elliot asked as Olivia searched through files.

She shrugged as she pulled out a large file. She flipped through pages, and shook her head. "If she was raped years ago by him, she never reported it, and she's dead, so we can't ask her."

Elliot sighed softly, leaning back in his leather black chair. "Great," he muttered, rubbing his temples, "And the only one who can give us the answers we're looking for is the guy, who we're wanting to lock up."

Olivia sighed softly with a nod. "Life's a bitch."

He gave a slight nod in agreement as he went back to work.

* * *

><p>He hadn't meant to murder her; he wanted her alive, but he could not bring her back from the dead. With a shrug, he opened a rusty door, entering an abandoned warehouse. He looked around with a soft smirk. Hanging on the grayish walls were newspaper clippings of crimes and a few photographs of his obsession - Olivia Benson. He licked his bottom lip as he carefully unpinned a photo.<p>

"One day you'll be mine," he murmured, tracing the outline of the woman's face in the picture.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Wow. A lot of things happened in this chapter. Hm. Review if you want more. Cause if not I really wont waste studying time typing xD **


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer:**

**I have no claim to the Law & Order Franchise( that's a word, right?). Creative purposes only; no profit has been made throughout this story - tho wouldn't that be a great way to make cash. Aha? However, I own any character I create.**

**Author's note: **

**Merry Christmas! It's the twenty fifth where I am. And I am feeling like writing. I think I know where I'm going now.**

**Chapter 32**

It was luck; well for him, because for her it was a pure accident. It had not been planned, nor had he acted out against her. Who would had known that she would get stuck out on the road on one of the quietest nights of the year? For the most part, he had stayed hidden in his little space, admiring the angelic presence from afar. He knew. Good things come to those who wait. He waited, not only because of this motto, but also because it was the hunt, the suspense, and the fear that would casually radiate off her that edged him on. For the most part, Mark Cane was a very patient man.

The skies were cloudy with gray fluffy clouds, and the air was muggy. The rain fell hard against streets of New York, blending with the little snow that was left. The snow on the sidewalks had melted until only half of an inch of snow was left covering the sides; yet, as the day progressed, that snow too would melt away into the overgrown grass.

"How many beers have you had, Mark? Two? Three? Six?" Henry chuckled as he plopped down on the bar stool next to the other man. He noticed the picture of a woman in the man's hand, but said nothing of it.

Glancing up at the use of his birth given name, he narrowed his eyes at him. "What did I say about calling me by that name in public?" he growled in a husky whisper.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Henry lowered his voice, and whispered in a amused tone, "Oh right. You're on the run."

Mark stood hastily; his legs wobbling slightly as he did. He grabbed a hold of Henry by the collar of his shirt, and leaned his face in close, until there was only an inch of a gap between them. "Watch it, Hair boy."

Henry's pale nose crinkled at the stench of booze that radiated from the other man's mouth. "Sorry. I'll be less obvious."

With a curt nod, Mark released the flimsy man. He settled back down on the stool, and begun to once again nurse his beer.

Fixing his collar, and looking towards the man, Henry said "So, tell me about her."

His face hidden by the glass, he asked coolly. "What?"

"You know," he pointed at the picture, which was covered in creases from the several times it had been folded, "Who is she?"

He crumbled the picture into a ball; having several hidden somewhere, that he showed no remorse for this one picture. "No one."

"Come on, you can tell me. Aren't we pals?"

Mark smirked slightly, amused by the other man's delusion, and muttered "Pals? In your dreams, Hair boy."

He frowned slightly but said nothing more. He stood, grabbed his things, and headed out. "Have a nice life, Mark!" He did not stick around to hear the other man's response; nor did he care.

* * *

><p>"You got to be kidding me," Olivia muttered softly as the car begun to make odd sounds, which could only be the sound of the engine failing.<p>

She pulled to the side of the road slowly; careful not to skid on the road, which had become slippery after the rainfall the night before.

Once she had situated the car away from traffic, she turned the key, pulling it out. A gust of wind hit her as she opened the car door.

She reached into her purse, pulling out her cell phone. Flipping it open, she pressed the number two button and then the green call button.

It rang for a few moments, and then went to voicemail.

"Hey, El," she said after the beep, "It's Olivia. My car stopped, and I'm…uh.." she glanced around and realized. She had no idea where she was. _Important key sites, _she thought to herself as she glanced around once more. She cursed softly as the voicemail hung up on her.

She pressed redial, once again getting his voicemail. "It's me again, El. I don't know where I am but there's a bar across from where my car stopped and right before it there's an old rundown warehouse."

The voicemail then proceeded to hang up on her, but she had said what she needed to say. She placed her phone back in her purse, and sat down inside the car to wait. What she didn't know was that by a rare chance, her partner's phone had died, and he wouldn't received her message until much later.

* * *

><p>Her eyes opened slowly, waking from a groggy slumber. It took her a few waking moments to realize that she was not laying on the lumpy seat of her car. She could move her hands and feet, so that seemed to eliminate the possibility that someone had taken her from her car; however, she had no recollection of how she came to be laying where she was.<p>

She glanced down at herself. She was still fully clothed in the outfit that she had worn to work. _Why can't I remember, _she wondered as she stood up. She wasn't in her apartment. No. This place was much nicer. As she went to sit down, a knock on the door made her stand back upright; the knock was soft and gentle, so she had no idea what to think.

"Come in?" she spoke in a voice that she barely recognized; her voice held a mixture of confusion and fear.

The door open, and a Hispanic woman in her sixties entered, holding a basket of clothes. "Perdone, señorita Olivia," she had a thick accent as she finished in English, "But Master Cane wanted me to give you a choice of dresses."

Olivia nodded, albeit stunned by everything. She watched the woman as she placed the basket on the bed.

Realizing that she was confused, the woman smiled softly, and replied "Oh, forgive me and my lacking manners. I am Rosetta but you may call me Rose."

Olivia nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. "Why do I need to get dressed up?" She figured Rose was safe to talk to.

She glanced up at Olivia and smiled. "It is surprise, Miss. But trust me, it is muy magnifica."

"Okay," Olivia said, and begun looking at the dresses. She held a silver one to her figure and turned to ask Rose about it, but was left stunned. The Hispanic lady was no longer there.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Turn of events. Where is Olivia? Why is she there? What does 'master Cane' want? Stay tune. **


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: I own no rights.**

**Note: Wrote this yesterday during Music Theory. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 33**

* * *

><p>Staring at her reflection on the full body mirror, Olivia stood with her arms crossed in a protective manner around herself. A soft squeak caused her to avert her eyes; her gaze burned a hole through the old, squeaky, wooden door. Sheer will and determination shone in her small doe eyes, and her lips were aligned, expressing how stubborn she was capable of being. The silver dress and the other dresses were tossed around the small, crammed room. She was not going to give up without a fight; she is a detective in the Special Victims Unit, not another defenseless victim.<p>

The door flung wide open with a squeak. Standing in the door way was the aged Hispanic woman, who had dropped off the dresses before.

As Rosa took one step, Olivia arched an eyebrow, studying her. Her eyes silently expressed that she didn't trust her.

Noticing the dresses, Rosa exclaimed as she begun to pick them up, "It look like a tornado pass through here, miss!"

Olivia bit down on her inner cheek, resisting the urge to smirk; that would be showing emotion.

"Why are you not ready?" Shaking her head, not waiting for an answer, she added, "Here I help."

In reaction, Olivia grasped Rosa's extended arm. "Don't touch me, Rosa."

A soft gasp left Rosa's lips.

"Tell me about this man you call master."

Rosa glanced downward. There was a change when she glanced up; something Olivia had seen expressed in many victims - fear.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't," She whispered, "Let him break your soul," _Like he did mine_, echoed in Rosa's head.

Olivia frowned slightly, reading what Rosa hadn't said out loud but had expressed with her eyes. She asked softly; like she would to a victim. "What do you mean, Rosa?"

As she opened her mouth to answer, a mean-spirited call of her name silenced her. She shook her head, and said as she disappeared through the door, "For another time!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note at the end:<strong>

**I have a plan now. Someone is going to rescue Olivia. Not Elliot. No one on the force. She's going to attempt to escape obviously. But I will have a twist. **


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns rights to any characters from Law & Order Special Victims Unit; however, Rosa, and anyone else I create, belongs to me.**

**Author's notes: I have a feeling I know what I want but uncertain how to get there. Bear with me. I am trying as best as I can.**

**I want to take the time to recognize the reviewers from last chapter:**

_**Carlotta1924 ~ Thank you for your review, and if you want to know who it might be, go ahead and PM me, but if I tell you, promise not to spoil the surprise. Ha, ha.**_

**_Little_Kakau ~ Such a loyal reader and reviewer. I am glad you are liking it, and oh, if you wish me to beta a story of yours, let me know, so I can make time for that. I loved beta reading for you._**

**_And that one reviewer who did not sign in ~ Short but left you wanting more, no? Ha, ha._**

**Now without further ado, I present…**

**Chapter 34**

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><p>Elliot Stabler lay on his bed, in a pitiful sleep, when his phone finally buzzed to life on the brown nightstand. He groaned softly as he reached out for the buzzing device. The bright light radiating from the cell phone blinded him for a moment. He had five unread text messages and one missed call. Flipping his phone open, he frowned softly.<p>

The one missed call was from Olivia, and the text messages were from either his captain or his other coworkers. One text message was from Fin, warning him to tread lightly when he got to work because the captain was not pleased, and then, a forward from Munch, talking about a conspiracy of how the big brother was watching; without a second thought, he deleted the forward. The last three were from his captain - the first one was simple, telling him to hurry and get to work; the last two were filled with worry about his partner, who was currently MIA. He pressed the one digit on the keypad, and waited for the robotic voice to finish talking.

"You have one new message. To listen, press three, and to-" the programmed voice said, and Elliot refrained from rolling his eyes as he pressed the number four on his cell.

He frowned as he listened to Olivia's message. He checked his wristwatch. When had she called? How long had she been waiting? Why was he asking himself these questions, which had no importance now, when he was still in his boxers?

As he stood up from his bed, the springs let out a squeak, seeming to be telling him to come back and sleep on it. Giving his bed one longing look, he slipped on a pair of jeans and his sweatshirt. He walked out of his room and grabbed his keys. On the way out of his apartment, he poured the already made coffee into a mug.

* * *

><p>Halfway there, his cell phone buzzed again.<p>

"Stabler," he said, keeping his eyes on the still night road.

"Have you seen your partner, El?" It was Fin. He figured, if anyone, Elliot would have his partner in his sights.

Elliot sighed softly as he stopped at a red light. "I just got a voicemail from her asking to be picked up because her car broke down near some warehouse or something."

He asked, "Just now?"

Elliot debated whether to make up a small lie or tell the truth; he opted with the truth. "No. She sent it hours ago. I just got it, though," That was the truth. Until now, his phone had been dead.

The light turned green, and Elliot let out a breath of air as he pressed on the gear. "Look man. I have to go. I'll let you know when I find her." He closed his phone with one hand, and tossed it to the passenger seat.

* * *

><p>In the unfamiliar place, Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She sighed softly. She missed her job, but most of all, she missed working with her partner. There was a longing in her heart, which confused her. Elliot was just her best friend and partner; so, why did being so far away from him hurt as much as it did? She could not be in love with her partner. Impossible. On the other hand, many of the things she saw seemed impossible, so maybe she was.<p>

She glanced up as the door opened. She stayed in her motionless posture, already knowing who was there.

"Master told me to help you get ready," Rosa, whispering softly, slowly shut the door behind her. Her eyes were red and dripping, and her lips bloody and split. It was obvious that she had received a beating.

Taking in the woman's new bruises, Olivia inquired softly, "Why do you listen to him?". She stood up slowly, grabbing a dress from the basket. She yanked a piece off.

Blinking, she replied, "He is my master. I must do as he says." She hissed softly as Olivia pressed the torn cloth at her wound.

"So? He treats you like crap." With the hand, which did not hold the cloth, she wiped a stray falling tear from Rosa's cheek.

"He pays me well…and…" her voice trailed off, and she glanced at her dark wrinkled hands.

"Has he threatened you?" Olivia asked as she put the now blood soaked cloth to the side. At Rosa's curt nod, she whispered "In what way?"

"He said I will be deported if I talk." She whispered, closing her eyes to fight off more tears. "I do not want to go back there. In my home country, there are worse fates than the one I have."

"There are laws in New York that protect you from being deported if you're a witness or a victim, Rosa." Olivia pointed out softly.

"What laws?" she asked.

"Executive order 41," Olivia answered, "and the Sanctuary policy protect immigrants."

"What does the sanctuary policy do?" Rosa asked as she slowly sat down.

Olivia explained, "Well, Sanctuary policies call for City Employees, like police officers, not to report illegal immigrants to federal authorities." She took a pause, reading Rosa's face to see if she understood.

"What about the other one?" she asked.

"And the Executive Order 41 prevents a police officer from asking a witness or victim of their status."

Rosa nodded slowly, "I see."

* * *

><p>Deserted on the side of the road was Detective Olivia Benson's car. The keys were still in the car, the engine roaring and the radio was playing softly in the background. Currently, a country song was playing. The car was conveniently on the street across from the warehouse, which was where Olivia was; however, the warehouse lights were off and it looked like no one had touched it since its condemnation.<p>

Elliot slowly parked his police issued sedan behind Olivia's off duty vehicle. He frowned, not seeing anyone at the wheel. "Okay. Don't panic. Maybe she's lying down." He reasoned with himself; after all, it was four in the morning.

He got out of the sedan, and jogged the few steps towards Olivia's car. He knocked on the shaded window. "Liv, it's me."

He frowned when his partner did not open the door. He put his face against the glass, peering in. He saw no one; not even an outline. He frowned softly; concern written all over his aged features.

He grasped the handle, not expecting it to be open. When he pulled, to his surprise, the door opened. Her purse was sitting on the passenger side, almost as if she had left it there while she went off. Nevertheless, he knew; she was not one to leave without a trace. A paper glistened from inside the black bag, and his eyes narrowed.

He knew that Olivia would be upset with him if she knew what he was about to do, but this was his partner (and maybe more, if God would allow, he thought to himself), who for all he knew could be laying in some gutter, fighting for her life.

He reached into his pocket for the glove he always carried with him for moments like this; having learned that crime never sleeps and to always be prepared. He slipped it on his hand; the one with the pale rim around his ring finger (he had been divorced for almost a year already). Grabbing the paper, he carefully opened it.

Magazine cut out letters glued onto the printer paper to spell out a message. Two big magazine cut out letters, which subbed as a signature, glued on the bottom (a big red letter M and a bold black letter C). His lip curled into a frown, and he refrained from letting out a masculine growl.

He flipped open his cell phone, calling it in, with a sigh of remorse.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**The middle part when I first wrote it was going to be the last part but then I was like that's not a good way to end a chapter because then I would have no way to add on, so I decided on this. I hope you liked it. I worked like four hours editing and looking over for any grammar and/or spelling errors; not including the time, I spent typing it up.**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated because they let me know that my story is actually being read and that I am not wasting my time typing something that will collect dust.**

**If you took the time to read this story and review, God bless your soul (even if you're not religious lol…because I'm not. I just like that expression).**

**A Side note:**

**Also if anyone is in the market (ha ha) for a good beta, I am available most Saturdays and Sundays, and sometimes weekdays (never Tuesday)**


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show.**

**Author's notes: Enjoy.**

**Chapter 35**

* * *

><p>Elliot sat at his desk, wondering where his partner was. He had his head in his hands. They found no trace evidence; so, there was no trail left. He groaned, running a hand through his hair.<p>

"Stabler," his captain called.

He glanced up. His eyes were red from shed tears, and his cheeks were tearstained.

"Go home, son," the captain ordered softly.

He shook his head, and replied, "I can't, cap. Not until she's back."

Cragen sighed softly, and spoke, gently, "you and me know she wouldn't want you doing this to yourself. Go up to the cribs and get a few Z's."

Knowing that he was right, Elliot slowly stood up from the chair. He lugged himself towards the cribs.

His captain sighed as he watched the retreating detective's back. He shook his head and went back to his office. He, too, was worried; Olivia was like the daughter he never had.

* * *

><p>Rosa wanted to help. She really did. Yet, she was afraid, afraid that the detective was lying to her. Deep down, she knew the detective had no reason to lie. She was already stuck in a warehouse with a rapist and an immigrant. A soft sigh left her lips as she wiped the wooden tabletop.<p>

"Have you convinced her?" the master of the house, well warehouse, asked the immigrant.

Rosa glanced up and replied, "Miss Olivia is quite a stubborn one, sir."

He scowled. "Maybe I could convince her."

She knew what he meant when he said that. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "No!"

He arched a brow, and waited for her to explain herself.

A soft whimper left her lips as she cooked up reasons. "I mean, let me try again."

He nodded, "Very well. I'll give you one last chance."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

><p>Olivia glanced up at the turning of the doorknob. She stood, and waited for the door to open. The door locked from the outside.<p>

"Olivia," Rosa whispered as she closed the door behind herself.

Olivia asked her, gently. "Have you considered what I said?"

She nodded slowly, "Yeah."

"Well?"

"I can not. At least, not now."

Olivia knew this would happen. She could not expect a victim to run away so freely.

"But I did not come here to discuss this," she added, "You need to get dressed in a dress."

"I won't do it."

Her eyes widened, and she begged, "Olivia please. Master will rape you if you do not!"

Olivia scoffed, and replied "Honey, I want him to approach me. I want to see the coward."

"You do not understand! He is a dangerous man!" exclaimed Rosa, eyes wide.

Olivia looked at her, straight in the eyes. "I understand. However, I am a detective. I will not go down without a fight. You tell him. If he wants me in that dress, he has to put it on me himself!"

Rosa nodded slowly, giving up. "Very well," she turned, and walked out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Chapter is like filler. Suggestions welcomed.**


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's note: Gah! I am so sorry! I got absorbed with my college class. I have had this written on paper since the 18****th**** of April, but I have been to busy to sit down and type! **

**Disclaimer: do not own it**

**Chapter 36**

* * *

><p>Rosa barely spoke whenever she entered the room where Olivia was caged inside. When Olivia spoke to her, she didn't know whether to remain silent, like she'd been told, or say something. The manners that she had learned as a little girl told her that she should say something; however, the beatings she received for disobeying seemed to make the choice that much harder. It was certain that Rosa enjoyed the life that Olivia's presence brought to a room, yet she regretted that one day that spirit would be dimmed or gone entirely.<p>

"Why don't you stay for a while? Sit," Olivia shifted on the cot, "Let's chat."

Oh how Rosa wanted to sit; to rest her swelling feet and stall the foretold fate that awaited her for something she did or didn't do. Although her heart wanted nothing more than to stay for a while more, her brain reminded her of her vulnerability. She yearned to stay, but that was not an option.

"I am sorry," she begun, "maybe another time." Then, she would leave, the door closing with her standing on the wrong side.

Olivia, being no fool, recognized the inner battle that went on inside the woman. She saw her desire to stay drowned out by her fears. Breaking that wall and gaining her trust would take some time and would require the use of gentle words; however, time was slowly running out.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**I know that is surely not enough for your long wait but that is all I have and can think to write. Maybe when school ends I'll get my groove back **


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show or any of the characters from there.**

**Author's note: on the last chapter, an unsigned review said it was pointless. Well darling, if you can't bother to sign in, your two cents are worthless. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 37<strong>

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><p>There was a delicate knock on the door as someone's curled up fist patted softly against it. The knob slowly turned, and light from the hallway entered the dark room. Instead of seeing Rosa, like she had expected, there stood a man. The man looked to be at least six feet tall, and weighed twice as much as Olivia; he had bushy blonde fuzz all over his face with a head of hair to match. He wore a dark, almost professional suit and had a distinct aroma, which caused Olivia to cough as she choked slightly on it.<p>

Olivia's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Why was he here and where was Rosa? "Why are you here?"

She didn't like the smirk that found its way onto the man's face. She shivered as the man spoke. "I decided I should see you for myself. After all, you've been here for a month already."

Her lips curved into a tight frown. "What have you done with her?"

His head went back as he let out a hoarse menacing laugh, but then his face went serious, and he stared her down. "This is not the prescient nor an interrogation room, Miss Benson."

Olivia scowled as he reminded her of what she already knew. It didn't take much to know that she was somewhere unfamiliar to her. "I know that."

"You might think you're still in control, but you're not." He continued, as if not hearing her. "You're out of your element, detective. You don't have anyone here to help you, and no one here is going to help you."

"You're wrong."

His eyes flashed threateningly, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

The next thing happened so fast she hardly had time to react. She fell backwards at the force of the back of his hand hitting her cheek. She closed her eyes, knowing full well that there was going to be a bruise tomorrow.

She flinched away when his finger touched her cheekbone, caressing it softly. "Don't touch me," She whispered, flinching away from him.

He gripped her face with that hand, digging his fingers painfully on her skin, and growled out, "I give the orders. When I say jump, you jump. You got that?" His voice left no room for reply. She swallowed down any pride she had, and nodded slowly. "Good," He said, an unnerving smile on his face.

He stood and she watched him leave the room. She sighed softly as the door shut behind him, and closed her eyes. A soft hushed cry left her lips and tears slid down her face. She could still feel the man's hand on her cheek, and his taunting voice echoed in her head. She had been dumb to think that she would be able to get out without outside help. Rosa would never turn on him. Besides, for all she knew, he could have figured out what she had been saying and gotten rid of her. The guilt panged in her chest; if Rosa was dead, then it was her fault.

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><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**I know it's short but I feel this is the best ending for this chapter. More later. I have hw to do. **


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's note: Hey, it is I. Yeah. I changed my penname. From Balseirocharmed to TheOceanCrumb, which is also my twitter name. What do you think? I know it has been a while. I have been getting into **_**other **_**things. Moreover, sadly I will keep being busy this year. I am a junior now and have a job(I don't get paid tho, I get community service hours)... Whoop!**

**I was listening to Black Veil Brides for inspiration as I wrote this chapter. Y'all need to take a listen. They are good. I promise.**

**Disclaimer: As always, I claim no right to the Law & Order Franchise or their characters. I do own any characters I have created, though.**

**Previously, Olivia finally met her attacker face to face, and was left with the wondering of what might have happened to Rosa.**

**Chapter 38**

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><p><em>A few days prior…<em>

"Sir, please," begged Rosa, tears in her chocolate brown eyes, "Do not do this."

His cold blackish yet emerald eyes glared at her, chilling her core. His voice ice-cold as he spoke, "You are pathetic."

A soft hiccup left her chapped lips, a lone tear falling down her brownish tan cheeks. "I do not want to go."

"You're tainted. You have no use to me anymore."

"I am sorry!" She screeched, her mascara spreading down her cheeks. "So sorry, Please, I can not go back there! Cannot! Will not!"

"You really think you have a choice, woman?" He let out a cold, cruel laugh.

She flinched, and crossed her arms, rubbing her left elbow with her right arm. Her bottom lip quivered, her two front teeth exposed. "Sorry," She said in a soft whisper.

"Will you stop apologizing? I don't care if you're sorry," He yelled, clenching his hands into fists. "Nothing will stop me from doing what I am going to do with you. I do not want you anymore."

Her voice shook with a heavy sob, "I do not want to go back to my country. Why can I not just stay here in New York?"

"Oh, why not," He muttered sarcastically, "why not while you're at it, you go to the Manhattan Special Victims Unit and tell them I have one of their first elite detectives locked up nearby right under their noses?"

Wiping her damp eyes, Rosa mumbled, "Sir…I would…I would never. Never,."

"Do you think I am blind, Rosa? I have seen you getting cozy with my prisoner."

"I was just being friendly…"

If possible, his voice rose to an extreme, "I take you in and I give you a better life than you ever knew and you repay me by being friendly?"

"I, sir-" she pleaded softly. She had just about said all she could to try to get back on his better side, if such a side existed. She had done almost everything but get down on her knees and kiss his boots.

"Save it! I don't care what you have to say. I don't want to hear it!" His yell echoed throughout the soundproof room, and seemed to steal Rosa's ability to speak.

Tears fell down the woman's face, but she could not find it in herself to speak. Throwing away the last drop of dignity, she dropped herself to the floor, and gripped his feet, crying hysterically.

"What the hell are you doing?" He yelled, "How dare you touch me with your filthy hands! Get up!" When she did not remove herself from the floor, he gripped her hair, yanking her up to her feet.

When she made no sound, he growled, and slapped her cheek. The contact of his hands to her skin made an icy sound, yet she did not respond.

Rosa stood there, statue-like, staring at him; a statue made of Earth's warmest core for she had certainly gone through hell and back; there was nothing more that he could do to her. Nothing more could penetrate her soul more than the events of the day where he found her and made her his property; his iniquitous words seemed to bounce off her like a sound booth.

Realizing that his words no longer posed an impression on her, he snarled up his bottom lip, sneering. "Get out."

"Fine," Her voice did not sound like it usually sounded when she spoke to him.. It was not soft, weak. No. It was a bit firmer; more confident. However, she did not turn her back on him to leave. She knew he was not done; that he had more to say to her before he actually would let her go.

"I could kill you right now but honestly, I would rather not taint my knife with your filthy blood," He said, a crooked grin on his face.

Rosa hid whatever fear she might have felt perfectly well, her facial features set on a stone-cold expression. "Okay."

He snarled softly as he opened the front door for her, "You may leave now,"

Over the time that she had lived under the same roof as this man, Rosa had learned quite well that she should never turn her back on him. Turning your back on your enemy leaves you defenseless, and open for attacks. Walking backwards, her back never turned to face him, her eyes connected with his as she stepped onto the front step.

His eyes were cold, filled with nothing but hatred. "If you ever," He hissed, "Ever say a word to anyone, it will be the last thing you ever do. I promise you that."

The door slammed in her face, leaving her out in the dark. She glanced up at the moon, which glimmered the brightest in the night. The stars twinkled from their place in the deep night sky, almost as bright as the moon but not quite. This was what freedom felt like. She was free.

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><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Well I am back for a while. This chapter was mainly background to my last chapter. If I get enough "good" reviews, I might be motivated to write the next chapter. I have a slight idea of what I might want it to be about. Feel free to tell me what you liked and did not like, and what you might want to see happen. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, though. I worked several hours(like three - writing and editing). **


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's note: Sorry havent been writing lately. Here is the last chapter.**

**Chapter 39**

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><p>For the detectives, especially Detective Elliot Stabler, nights had been sleepless, and any time he spent awake, he spent searching for Olivia. While most people started to assume the worse had happened, Elliot refused to believe that Olivia was gone. He was working another late night when the door to the unit burst open. He stood up; putting down a file, he had been looking over. In the room, a woman with dark skin stood.<p>

"Can I help you?" Elliot said slowly, examining her carefully.

The woman nodded, "Yes. I want to report a crime."

Elliot walked around his desk and towards her, "Come with me," he led her to an empty interrogation room.

Inside the interrogation, the woman paced, hands clasped together behind her back. "My name is Rosa,"

Elliot nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"Up until two days ago, I was held captive by a man," Rosa whispered.

"What did the man look like?" Elliot asked her.

"Blue eyes… Blonde hair…tall." she said; she had the description painted in her memory. She would never forget the man she had spent over four years with.

Elliot jotted that down, and asked "Anything else?"

Rosa nodded urgently, "Yes, yes! He has a woman. She has brown hair and brown eyes. She told me that she is a cop for this unit."

Elliot frowned. Was this a sick joke? "Did she tell you her name?"

Rosa nodded, "Yes. Olivia."

Elliot's breath hitched softly. Could it be his Olivia? After all these weeks of hopelessly searching, could it be?

"She is locked in a room. Not too far from here," Rosa added, "And I know where he is going to take her tonight."

She had his attention. She was the key to Olivia's rescue. "Where will they be?"

"He is taking her to the airport. One way ticket to Italy," Rosa said softly, "Flight takes off in five hours,"

Elliot frowned and stood up. Had this woman not presented herself, he could have lost Olivia forever.

"Can you save her?" Rosa asked hopefully.

Elliot nodded, and said in a whisper, "I believe I can…thank you for the information. It was very brave of you to come forward,"

Rosa nodded and stood up. "Least I can do," she whispered and then walked out.

Elliot didn't waste a minute. He called Cragen and informed him of the new information, and got the permission to go forward with his plan.

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><p>"See anything?" Elliot spoke into his wrist. He stood where the bag checking happened.<p>

"Negative," Munch's voice rang in Elliot's ear.

He sighed softly, trying to act natural,. His leg was shaking out of nerves. One chance; they only have one chance.

A few minutes later, the airport doors opened. A man entered the airport, and in his hand, he held a woman close to his side, almost like he was holding her against her will.

Elliot casually put his hand against his mouth so he could speak and he warned Fin about the man and woman who stood closer to him.

Fin nodded and slowly, so as not to look suspicious, begun to follow the two people. The woman glanced slightly at him, but the man with her paid no attention.

It all happened so fast. The woman elbowed the man, causing him to gasp in pain and let her go. "Son of a bitch," He yelled, raising his hand to slap her, but he didn't get the chance.

He groaned as Detective Fin tackled him to the floor. He fell on his stomach, and he struggled as Fin took hold of his arms and put them behind his back, cuffing him. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law…you have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you," As he read the man his rights, the other detectives walked up to them.

While Munch joined his partner in arresting the man, Elliot went towards the woman, and whispered softly. "Olivia?"

It had been weeks since she had heard his voice. She nodded slowly, tears gathering in her eyes.

Without another word, he pulled her to him and hugged her. "God. I missed you."

A sniffle left her lips, "Missed you too."

Fin pulled up the now cuffed man up to his feet. The man glared over at Olivia and then glanced at Elliot, realizing the only way he'd have known had to have been Rosa, "Dead, I say. She's dead,"

Munch shook his head, and said, lowering his glasses slightly, staring at him. "If you're going to make empty threats, at least make them good ones,"

Fin chuckled slightly, roughly pushing the man out the airport doors, his partner following beside him.

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><p>"How did you know?" Olivia asked as she walked with him towards Elliot's squad car.<p>

"A lady named Rosa," he said, glancing at her softly, looking her over for any marks. "What did he do to you?"

Olivia smiled at the name, and whispered "I'm glad she's alright…and let's save that for another night?"

Elliot nodded his head, "Sure," he opened the door for her and she got in. He got in the driver's seat.

After weeks, almost months, of searching, Olivia was finally back with him, where she belonged, she was safe, and she could finally begin to heal.

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><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Well that's the end! I hope you liked it. I know I might have rushed it but I figured this part shouldn't be dragged out!**


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